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California 

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|  CLARENCE  GRIFFIN    CHILD 

1 


RALPH 
ROISTER  DOISTER 


EDITED   BY 


HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
BOSTON,  NEW  YORK,  AND  CHICAGO 

@Cbe  littUersrte  press 


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mmss0^^&Y«.^jmm 


Price,  paper,  30  cents  ;  cloth,  library  edition,  50  cents. 


Literature 


All  prices  are  net,  postpaid. 

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one  vol.,  linen,  .40. 

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27.  Thoreau's  Forest  Trees,  etc.     Paper,  .15.    Nos.  2S,  37,  27,  one  vol.,  linen,  .50. 

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29.  Hawthorne's  Little  Daffydowndilly,  etc.     Paper,  15  ;  linen,  25. 

30.  Lowell's  Vision  of  Sir  Launfal,  etc.     Paper,  .15  1  Wnen,  .2,'.. 
81.  Holmes's  My  Hunt  after  the  Captain,  etc.    Paper,  .15. 

32.  Lincoln's  Gettysburg  Speech,  etc.     Paper,  .15.    Nos.  133,  32,  one  vol.,  linen,  .4ft 
33,34,35    Longfellow's  Tales  of  a  Wayside  Inn.    In  three  parts,  each^pqper,  .15. 
Nos.  33,  34,  35,  complete,  one  vol.,  finen,  .50. 

36.  Burroughs's  Sharp  Eyes,  etc.     Paper,  ,15  :  linen,  .25. 

37.  Warner's  A-Hunting  of  the  Deer,  etc.    Paper,  .15  :  linen,  .25. 

38.  Longfellow's  Building  of  the  Ship,  etc.    Paper,  .15. 

39.  Lowell's  Books  and  Libraries,  etc.     Paper,  .15. 

40.  Hawthorne's  Tales  of  the   White  Hills,  etc.   Paper,  .15t  linen,  .25.    Nog.  40,  69, 

one  vol.,  linen,  .40. 

41.  Whittier's  Tent  on  the  Beach,  etc.    Paper,  .15. 

......  -   ",  one  vol.,  linen,  .4t 


45.  Macaulay's  Lays  of  Ancient  Rome.     Paper,  .15  ;  linen,  .25. 

46.  Old  Testament  Stories  in  Scripture  Language.    Paper,  .15. 

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48,  complete,  one  vol..  linen,  .40. 
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51.  Irvlng's  Rip  Van  Winkle,  etc.     Paper,  .15. 

52.  Irving's  The  Voyage,  etc.    Paper,  .15.    NOB.  51,  52,  one  vol.,  linen,  .40. 

53.  Scott's   Lady  of  the   Lake.     Paper,  .30.     Also,   in   Rotfe't   Student*'  Series,  to 

Teachers,  .53. 

54.  Bryant's  Thanatopsis,  etc.     Paper,  .15  ;  linen,  .25. 

5*.  Shakespeare's  Merchant  of  Venice.    Paper,  .15;  linen,  .25. 

56.  Webster's  First  Bunker  Hill  Oration,  etc.    /'riper,  15  •,  linen,  .25. 

57.  Dickens's  Christmas  Carol.     Paper,  .15;  linen,  .2.5. 

58.  Dickens's  Cricket  on  the  Hearth.     Paper,  .15.    Nos.  57,  58,  one  vol.,  linen,  .40 

59.  Verse  and  Prose  for  Beginners  in  Reading.  J'ajier,  .15 ;  linen,  25 

60,61.  Addison  and  Steele's  The  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  Papers.    In  two  parta 
Each,  paper.  .15.    Nos.  GO,  (11,  one  vol.,  finen,  .40. 

62.  Flake's  War  of  Independence.     Paper,  .30  ;  linen,  .40. 

63.  Longfellow's  Paul  Revere's  Ride,  etc.     Paper,  .15     Nos.  11,63,  one  vol .,  linen,  4" 
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65. 66.  one  vol.,  linen,  .50. 

ii".   Shakespeare's  Julius  Coesar.     Paper,  .15  ;  linen,  .25. 
iW.   Goldsmith's  Deserted  Village,  etc.     Paper,  .15 ;  line n,  .25. 
69.   Hawthorne's  The  Old  Manse,  etc.     Paper,  .15.    Nos.  40,  69,  one  vol.,  linen,  .40. 
TO.  A  Selection  from  Whittier's  Child  Life  in  Poetry.    Paper,  .15. 
Jl.  A  Selection  from  Whittier's  Child  Life  in  Prose     Paper,  .15     NOB  70,  71.  on? 

vol.,  linen,  .40. 

72.  Milton's  Minor  Poems.     Paper,  ,15  ;  linen,  .25.    Nos.  72, 94,  one  vol.,  linen.  40 

73.  Tennyson's  Enoch  Arden,  etc.     Paper,  .15  ;  linen,  .25. 

74.  Gray's  Elegy,  etc. ;  Cowper's  John  Giipin,  etc.     Paper,  .15. 

75.  Scudder's  George  Washington.     I'a/ier,  .30  :  linen,  .40. 

76.  Wordsworth's  On  the  Intimations  of  Immortality,  etc      Paper,  .15;  linen,  25. 

77.  Burns's  Cotter's  Saturday  Night,  etc.    Paper,  .15  ;  linen,  .25. 

78.  Goldsmith's  Vicar  of  Wakefleld.    Paper,  .30 ;  linen,  .40. 

79.  Lamb's  Old  China,  etc.    Paper,  .15. 

80.  Coleridge's    Ancient  Mariner,  etc.  ;    Campbell's    Lochiel'a  Warning. 

Paper.  .15  ;  linen,  .25 
U.  Hoimes'i  Autocrat  of  th«  Ure»kfftit-T»ble.    Paper. .«  i  Ivtm.  » 


fttfol 

Cl:c  UiVOTSiBf  ILitrratuiT  g>r  rtrs 


RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER 

WITH  INTRODUCTION  AND  NOT&S 


BY 

CLARENCE  GRIFFIN  CHILD 


Professor  of  English  in  the  University 

of  Pennsylvania  I  J 


BOSTON    NEW    YORK    AND    CHICAGO 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN   COMPANY 
Cbe  fiitoer0iDe  press  Cambribge 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSE*  9F 
CMJFOMN* 


COPYRIGHT,    1912,    BY   HOUGHTON   MIFFLIN   COMPANY 
ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 


CONTENTS 

INTRODUCTION: 

I.  The  Earlier  Play 5 

1.  Miracle  and  Morality .  .         .         .         .5 

2.  The  Interlude 6 

3.  The  Farce  and  Ballad  Play      .         .        .        .10 

4.  The  French  Farce    .         .        .         .         .        .12 

II.  The  Influence  of  the  Classic  Drama         .        .         .19 

III.  Author  and  Play 27 

1.  Nicholas  Udall 27 

2.  The  Date  of  the  Play 31 

3.  The  Sources  of  the  Play 43 

RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER 53 

NOTES 157 

GLOSSARY  .  .  167 


INTRODUCTION 

I 

THE  EARLIER  PLAY 

1.    MIRACLE    AND  MORALITY 

Ralph  Roister  Dolster  and  Gorboduc,  or  Ferrex  and 
Porrex,  are  plays  of  early  date  and  great  intrinsic  merit. 
Have  they  a  further  distinction  —  are  they  the  first  "  reg- 
ular "  English  comedy  and  tragedy  ?  What  is  their  place 
in  the  history  of  the  drama  ? 

From  the  earliest  times  among  the  English  people  the 
impulse  to  dramatic  expression — which  is  universal  — 
took  form  in  folk-dances,  folk-games,  folk-plays ;  some 
have  remained  even  to  our  own  day.  Such  primitive  forms 
of  the  play  may,  as  among  the  Greeks,  develop  into  a  reg- 
ular drama,  but  only  tardily,  without  orderly  progress  or 
continuity,  with  long  deferral  of  an  awakening  of  con- 
scious art.  To  insure  continuity,  to  hasten  progress,  some 
external  agency  must  give  the  play  more  assured  social 
standing  and  dignity.  Tragedy  outstripped  comedy  among 
the  Greeks  because  its  presentation  was  a  religious  cere- 
monial ;  in  medieval  Europe,  the  Church,  the  central  so- 
cial institution  of  the  Middle  Ages,  at  once  democratic  and 
aristocratic,  though  it  had  repressed  and  brought  to  an 
end  the  Rpman  drama,  itself  later,  by  using  drama  to  en- 
rich its  services  and  enforce  its  teaching,  provided  the 
starting-point  for  a  new  development.  In  the  liturgical 
play  —  at  first  merely  a  brief  action,  with  a  word  or  two 
of  dialogue,  inserted  in  the  liturgy  of  special  festivals  — 
the  miracle  or  religious  play,  presenting  events  from  the 
Bible  or  the  lives  of  saints,  took  rise.  In  time,  the  play- 


6  INTRODUCTION 

ing  of  the  miracles  was  transferred  without  the  church- 
building,  and  into  the  control  of  trade-guilds  and  municipal 
authority.  Elaborated  cycles  of  plays,  covering  Bible  nar- 
rative and  prophecy,  from  the  Fall  of  the  Angels  to  the 
Day  of  Judgment,  were  acted  by  tradesmen  and  artisans. 
The  religious  play  became  in  a  complete  sense  the  posses- 
sion of  the  people  and  was  thereby  assured  vitality.  It 
possessed  a  recognized  social  status  and  function,  and  was 
thereby  insured  the  necessary  continuity  for  orderly  and 
relatively  rapid  development.  While  truly  popular,  it  was 
never  disconnected  from  the  Church,  and  the  possibility 
of  being  improved  and  adapted  to  new  aims.  Popular  in- 
fluence within  the  miracle  made  characterization  and  dia- 
logue realistic,  and,  with  most  important  bearing  on  fut- 
ure artistic  development,  educed  the  element  of  humor. 
But  it  was  the  Church,  it  was  a  learned,  indeed,  in  a 
measure  a  literary,  influence,  which  called  into  existence 
a  new  type  of  play,  the  morality,  that  is  a  moral  allegory 
in  dramatic  form.  In  this  new  type,  the  didactic  purpose 
for  which  the  drama  ostensibly  existed,  which  had  become 
materially  weakened  in  the  popular  miracle,  was,  in  a  most 
interesting  way,  reaffirmed  and  intensified.  None  the  less, 
through  substitution  of  human  life  and  conduct  in  the  ab- 
stract in  the  place  of  Bible  story  and  saint's  legend,  the 
use  of  allegory,  as  it  does  always,  led  in  time  to  criticism 
of  contemporary  conditions,  to  controversy  and  satire,  and 
a  long  step  was  taken  toward  the  use  of  other  than  relig- 
ious and  moral  themes.1 

2.    THE  INTERLUDE 

Side  by  side  with  the  morality  appears  a  second  new  type 
of  play,  the  interlude.  While  the  morality  reaffirmed  the 
didactic  purpose  of  the  religious  play,  the  interlude  repre- 
sents departure  from  it  in  the  direction  of  greater  freedom. 

1  See  for  a  more  extended  outline,  with  detailed  references,  Early 
Plays  in  this  series,  number  191.  The  most  important  reference  for  the 
early  drama  is  The  Mediaeval  Play,  of  E.  K.  Chambers  ;  for  the  general 
development  of  the  drama,  and  the  lines  of  influence  extending  into  it 
from  the  early  drama,  the  Elizabethan  Drama,  of  F.  E.  Schelling. 


THE  EARLIER  PLAY  1 

A  view  formerly  held,  supported  or  inferred  from  an  assumed 
etymology  of  the  word,  found  the  origin  of  the  interlude  in 
definitely  humorous  scenes,  non- religious  in  subject,  inserted 
between  the  serious  scenes  of  the  miracle.  Another  view, 
more  near  the  truth,  saw  in  the  interlude  a  play  given  for 
entertainment  between  the  close  of  a  banquet  and  the  part- 
ing cup.  Mr.  Chambers's  surmise  is  probably  nearer  the 
truth,  that  the  word  means  simply  a  dialogue  between  sev- 
eral persons.  It  is  clear  that  the  term  was  applied  alike  to 
plays  indistinguishable  in  substance  and  method  from  mir- 
acle and  morality  and  plays  purely  secular  in  theme.  It  is 
also  equally  clear  that  the  term  implies  that  a  play  in 
question  was  given  more  or  less  confessedly  for  simple  en- 
joyment. This  fact  is  of  great  importance  when  the  ques- 
tion of  the  origin  of  the  interlude,  in  its  later  specific  sense, 
is  considered. 

Several  factors  enter  into  the  development.  Apart  from 
the  stated  presentations  of  the  cycles  of  miracles  in  the 
towns,  separate  miracles  and  moralities  might  be  given 
upon  festival  occasions  in  town  and  country.  These  pre- 
sentations might  be  purely  local,  or  local  resources  eked 
out  by  the  engagement  of  players  from  other  places,  or, 
indeed,  an  entire  company.  This  led  to  amateur  actors  of 
the  town  assuming  in  some  sort  a  professional  capacity. 
With  a  growing  appreciation  of  the  possibilities  of  the 
play  as  a  means  of  enjoyment  came  a  transfer  of  miracle 
and  morality  to  places,  occasions,  and  circumstances  of 
presentation  unknown  to  them  at  first  —  to  the  manor- 
hall,  the  guild-hall,  even  the  tavern.  The  miracle  and  mor- 
ality were  necessarily  conformed  to  suit  their  new  purpose 
and  circumstances  of  presentation.  They  were  snortened, 
their  dramatic  interest  intensified,  their  specifically  humor- 
ous and  other  entertaining  features  amplified.  Other  than 
religious  themes  began  to  be  used.  Here  an  influence  came 
in  from  the  various  forms  of  dramatic  or  quasi-dramatic 
activity  which  were  not  religious  —  the  folk-games,  folk- 
plays,  puppet-shows,  mummings,  disguisings,  pageants  ;  the 
spirit  and  influence  of  these  must  be  reckoned  with  as  affect- 
ing the  religious  play  in  its  new  surroundings.  Again,  and 


8  INTRODUCTION 

this  factor  is  one  of  great  importance,  the  popularity  of  the 
play  began  seriously  to  interfere  with  the  vogue  of  the  pro- 
fessional minstrel,  and  his  humbler  brethren,  the  acrobat, 
juggler,  performer  of  legerdemain,  exhibitor  of  trained  ani- 
mals. The  minstrels  tried  at  first  to  have  the  giving  of 
plays  by  amateurs  restrained,  but  eventually  many  yielded 
to  the  inevitable  and  themselves  turned  players,  so  that 
at  the  close  of  the  fifteenth  century  bodies  of  professional 
players  are  known  to  have  existed  who  played  under  the 
protection  and  patronage  of  great  nobles. 

Whatever  the  plays  used  —  and  any  plays  would  be 
used  that  suited,  whether  transformed  miracle,  morality, 
or  folk-play,  or  old  stories  revamped  in  dramatic  form  — 
with  the  didactic  purpose  subordinated,  with  ever  increas- 
ing freedom  in  choice  of  theme  and  treatment,  the  way  to 
artistic  development  lay  open,  though  that  was  not  to  be 
reached  till  far  in  the  future.  Here  an  important  question 
at  once  presents  itself. .  How  early  were  there  interludes 
on  themes  not  religious  and  moral  ? 

Evidence  is  scanty  until  a  comparatively  late  date,  but 
it  is  a  moral  certainty  that  the  secular  interlude  had  es- 
tablished itself  as  a  recognized  source  of  entertainment  in 
the  fourteenth  century,  perhaps  even  the  thirteenth.  It 
need  hardly  be  pointed  out  that  from  the  earliest  times  the 
folk-plays  must  have  been  given  in  the  local  manor,  even 
as  they  have  continued  to  be  given  to  our  own  day  ;  there 
was  more  to  this  than  condescension  or  a  willingness  to 
enter  into  the  pleasures  of  retainers  and  tenantry  ;  here 
may  be  recalled  Sir  John  Paston's  expression  of  regret  at 
parting  with  a  servant  because  he  acted  so  well  in  the 
Robin  Hood  plays.  We  must  also  take  into  account  the 
general  interest  in  pageants  and  mummings,  the  possibility 
of  plays  in  improvised  dumb-show  or  dialogue  ;  there  is  no 
reason  why  such  an  obvious  source  of  amusement  should 
have  been  reserved  only  for  special  occasions.  What  is  of 
more  concern,  however,  than  this  attractive  possibility  is 
the  question  at  what  time  the  minstrel  made  use  of  the 
dramatic  form  ;  began,  in  place  of  a  narrative  in  monologue, 
to  tell  the  story  in  dialogue  form,  either  acting  all  the 


THE  EARLIER  PLAY  9 

characters  himself  or  presenting  it  in  company  with  others, 
even  with  the  use  of  costume. 

Scanty  though  the  evidence  may  appear,  it  is  sufficient 
to  carry  the  presentation  of  interludes  by  the  minstrel 
much  farther  back  than  is  usually  apprehended  or  kept  in 
mind.  First  in  importance  is  the  famous  Interludium  de 
clerico  et  puella,  dating  certainly  in  the  early  fourteenth 
century,  probably  earlier,  a  little  drama  with  absolutely  no 
religious  or  didactic  purpose,  a  direct  transfer  of  a  fabliau 
or  humorous  tale  into  dramatic  form.  It  matters  little 
whether  this  interlude  was  intended  for  presentation  by 
one  or  several  persons.  It  is  impossible  to  suppose  that, 
if  such  dramatizations  of.  fabliaux  existed,  their  rendition 
by  several  persons  was  not  put  into  practice,  as  in  the 
folk-plays.  Nor  is  it  fair  to  assume  that  this  interlude  is 
an  isolated  example  and  exceptional.  The  fact  that  we 
have  one  only  and  not  many  such  interludes  preserved  is 
not  to  the  point ;  it  is  precisely  what  might  be  expected. 
The  Church  undoubtedly  reprehended  and  did  its  best 
to  suppress  plays  on  secular  themes  as  leading  to  license, 
just  as  it  frowned  on  frivolous  narrative  literature,  which 
nevertheless  existed  and  found  its  audience ;  indeed,  the 
admonitions  of  the  Church  in  the  abstract,  or  through  its 
sterner  upholders  of  good  morals,  did  not  succeed  in  re- 
straining its  own  more  worldly  and  light-minded  clerics. 
Its  influence  might  well  extend  to  preventing  the  record- 
ing of  such  plays  in  permanent  form  or  their  destruction 
where  possible.  Here  it  is  to  be  recalled  that  the  Wycliff- 
ites  denounced  even  miracles  as  sources  of  evil.  Moreover, 
how  small  a  part  of  the  recorded  literature  of  the  Middle 
Ages  has  in  any  case  come  down  to  us.  Yet,  again,  why 
should  any  large  part  of  such  dramatic  literature  be  re- 
corded in  permanent  form  at  all  ?  Even  though  enjoyed 
with  zest,  there  was  no  reason  why  such  plays  should  receive 
permanent  record  or  be  multiplied  for  reading;  how  small 
a  part  of  current  dramatic  literature  is  recorded  perma- 
nently to-day.  These  plays  were  for  acting ;  they  served 
the  minstrel's  personal  use ;  if  written  down,  were  kept  as 
his  stock  in  trade  and  worn  out  in  use ;  were  often,  no 


10  INTRODUCTION 

doubt,  retained  and  transmitted  memoritur  with  changes 
ad  libitum  at  successive  performances. 

If  early  evidence  in  the  form  of  plays  is  lacking,  we  are 
not  so  badly  off  as  regards  references  to  the  performances 
of  interludes.  Robert  Mannyng's  Handlyng  Synne,  the 
date  of  which  is  about  1303,  speaks  of  "  interludes  or 
singing,  or  tabor's  beat  or  other  piping."  In  the  latter  half 
of  the  fourteenth  century,  in  the  courtly  romance  of  Sir 
Gau'ain  and  the  Green  Knight  it  is  said  that  such  doings 
well  befit  at  Christmas  time  "in  default  of  interludes  to 
laugh  and  sing."  Fabyan,  in  his  Chronicle,  1494,  speaks 
of  Alfred's  going  into  the  camp  of  the  Danes  disguised  as 
a  minstrel  and  showing  them  his  interludes  and  songs. 
Douglas,  in  the  Palace  of  Honour,  1501,  says  "  at  ease 
they  ate  with  interludes  between." 

Without  pushing  the  significance  of  these  references 
too  far,  it  seems  clear  that  at  the  beginning  of  the  four- 
teenth century  stock  humorous  stories  familiar  in  narrative 
were  converted  into  dramatic  form ;  that  the  lines  from 
Manning  at  the  beginning  of  that  century,  and  from  Sir 
Gawain  and  the  Green  Knight  towards  its  close,  clearly 
associate  the  term  "interlude"  with  pleasure  and  enter- 
tainment ;  that  the  reference  in  Fabyan  clearly  associates 
the  presentation  of  interludes  with  the  minstrel.  There 
is  no  reason  for  supposing  that  the  interludes  referred  to 
are  miracles  or  moralities  ;  the  probability  is  decidedly  the 
other  way  when  the  reference  in  Douglas  is  considered. 
It  need  hardly  be  added  that  there  is  no  evidence  of  the 
use  of  the  term  "  interlude  "  for  anything  else  than  a  play. 

There  is,  accordingly,  a  reasonable  probability,  amount- 
ing, it  is  not  too  much  to  say,  to  a  moral  certainty,  that 
throughout  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries  the  term 
denotes  a  dramatic  performance  given  for  entertainment, 
and  that  such  performances  were  given  by  minstrels. 

3.  THE  FARCE  AXD  BALLAD  PLAY 

At  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century  influences 
which  had  been  maturing  during  the  previous  two  cen- 


THE  EARLIER  PLAY  11 

turies  in  conjunction  with  influences  from  without  Eng- 
land made  possible  the  development  of  a  secular  drama  of 
recognized  standing  and  therefore  capable  of  continuous 
development. 

At  the  close  of  the  fourteenth  century,  besides  the  popu- 
lar miracle  of  the  old  tradition,  there  existed  a  miracle 
and  morality  contemporary  and  controversial  in  its  teach- 
ing, to  which,  in  the  plays  of  Bishop  John  Bale  in  the 
coming  century,  was  added  the  impress  of  a  natural  dra- 
matic talent  of  high  order.  To  pageants,  mummings, 
"  disguisings,"  masques,  had  been  added  songs  and  perhaps 
spoken  dialogue.  There  were  companies  of  amateurs  and 
semi-professionals  throughout  the  provinces.  There  were 
companies  of  professional  players  under  the  titular  protec- 
tion of  great  nobles.  Secular  plays,  doubtless  for  the  most 
part  trivial  in  theme  and  crude  in  form,  were  included, 
together  with  miracles  and  moralities,  in  the  repertories 
of  these  companies. 

Under  these  new  conditions  two  elements  of  the  great- 
est importance  for  the  future  of  the  drama  find  their  op- 
portunity for  freer  development.  One  is  humor.  Humor 
had  long  played  an  important  part  in  the  miracle  as  its 
Bible  characters  became  converted  into  realistic  types,  and 
might  even  assert  itself  amid  the  sententious  didacticism 
of  the  morality.  In  one  miracle  of  the  nativity,  the  Second 
Shepherds1  Play  of  the  Townely  Cycle  of  miracles,1  the 
episode  of  Mak  the  Sheep-stealer  is  a  farce  or  low  comedy, 
complete  in  itself  and  of  real  dramatic  merit.  The  other 
element  is  that  of  history  —  the  presentation  of  historic 
and  legendary  personages  and  events.  This  element  was 
derived,  on  the  one  hand,  from  the  folk-play,  —  for  ex- 
ample, the  Robin  Hood  plays,  the  St.  George  plays,  plays 
on  the  rebellion  of  Jack  Straw, — and,  on  the  other  hand, 
from  the  pageant  and  mumming.  Plays  depending  for 
their  interest  on  these  two  elements  came  to  form  an 
important  part  of  the  stock  in  trade  of  minstrels  turned 
player  and  other  play-giving  associations,  and  contained 

1  See  Early  Plays,  Riverside  Literature  Series,  for  a  modernized  ver- 
sion of  this  play  and  comment  upon  it. 


12  INTRODUCTION 

in  themselves  the  germs  respectively  of  the  future  comedy 
and  tragedy.  But,  in  the  case  of  both,  external  influences 
were  necessary  to  lift  them  to  an  assured  standing  and  the 
possibility  of  development  toward  artistic  merit. 

4.  THE  FRENCH  FARCE 

Before  taking  up  the  first  of  the  external  influences 
affecting  the  purely  humorous  play  or  farce  in  England, 
it  will  be  helpful  to  contrast  the  conditions  affecting  its 
development  in  France  and  in  England.  Throughout 
France  the  performance  of  farces  was  furthered  by  the 
activity  of  so-called  puys,  or  societes  joyeuses,  associations 
of  amateurs,  purely  social  and  pleasure-seeking  in  pur- 
pose, in  addition  to  the  play-giving  of  confraternities  of 
students  as  an  incidental  feature  of  their  community  life. 
These  societies  played  pieces  of  every  kind,  religious, 
moral,  and  frankly  secular.  Everywhere  in  France,  appar- 
ently, there  was  immunity  from  interference  as  regards 
plays  of  satiric  or  frivolous  content  which  was  apparently 
not  permitted  in  England. 

In  England,  only  one  society  resembling  the  French 
puy  is  known  to  have  existed,  namely,  in  London.  Plays 
which  gave  offense  to  the  Church  were  acted  by  a  guild  of 
Brothelyngham  in  Exeter  in  the  middle  of  the  fourteenth 
century,  and  were  repressed  by  Bishop  Grandison.  The 
presumption  is  that  there  was  more  activity  of  this  sort 
than  appears  on  record,  carried  on  only  as  local  conditions 
gave  opportunity.  The  farce  had  its  chief  opportunity  in 
the  hands  of  quondam  minstrels.  It  was  cruder  and  less 
developed  than  its  French  analogue  ;  it  was  repressed  where 
it  attracted  the  attention  of  zealous  church  authorities  ;  it 
had  not  attained  social  standing  and  the  possibility  of 
higher  development. 

The  difference  is  not  merely  one  of  what  may  be 
called,  somewhat  invidiously,  a  fundamental  difference  in 
moral  attitude  of  the  two  countries,  or  of  a  greater  aus- 
terity in  the  Church,  or  the  influence  of  Lollardism, 
though  these  are  factors  of  essential  importance.  There 


THE  EARLIER  PLAY  13 

is  also  the  characteristic  inability  of  England  to  make 
artistic  advance  without  external  help,  and  also  its  so- 
cial conservatism,  slowness  to  accept  innovation  and 
change  of  any  sort.  It  is  no  anachronism  to  assume  a  dis- 
tinction in  social  status  between  plays  of  different  charac- 
ter at  this  time.  There  might  well  be  an  entire  willingness 
to  enjoy  in  hall  or  on  the  street  an  amusing  folk-play  or 
dramatized  fabliait,  of  the  strolling  minstrel,  when,  on 
formal  occasions,  a  pageant  or  a  miracle  or  morality  would 
be  the  only  suitable  or  chief  offering,  and  the  purely  hu- 
morous interlude  be  admitted  only  as  a  more  or  less  casual, 
additional,  and  nominally  inferior  entertainment,  however 
much  more  real  enjoyment  might  be  derived  from  it. 

All  these  differences  may  be  illustrated  somewhat  aptly 
by  considering  a  fairly  close  parallel  in  another  form  of 
literature,  intimately  related  to  the  farce  except  in  form, 
the  fabliau  —  both  being  treatments  of  single  comic  in- 
cidents, usually  from  bourgeois  life  and  usually  more  or  less 
ribald.  In  France,  there  remain  in  round  numbers  about 
a  hundred  fabliaux  ;  in  England,  apart  from  the  group  in 
Chaucer,  there  are  only  two  in  the  fourteenth  century 
(one,  the  Land  of  Cockayne,  not  really  a.  fabliau)  and  a 
dozen  or  so  in  the  fifteenth,  which  have  come  to  record. 
There  were,  of  course,  a  host  of  them  which  have  never 
come  to  record.  It  is  worth  noting  also,  by  the  way,  that 
Chaucer  apologizes  not  only  for  repeating  the  words  used 
by  his  churlish  characters,  —  asking  that  this  be  not  as- 
cribed to  ill-breeding  in  him,  —  but  also  for  the  character 
of  the  tales  themselves,  praying  every  gentle  wight  not  to 
deem  that  he  speaks  with  evil  intent. 

If,  then,  the  farce  occupied  a  distinctly  inferior  posi- 
tion, as  belonging  characteristically  to  the  strolling  min- 
strel and  the  tavern  audience,  how  was  it  to  attain  to 
proper  standing  and  acceptance  ?  Here,  as  often  before 
and  afterward,  England  seems  to  have  learned  the  neces- 
sary lesson  from  without.  In  France  the  farce  had  reached 
its  full  development  in  the  course  of  the  fourteenth  cen- 
tury. Between  1494  and  1495  French  minstrels  visited 
England  ;  we  do  not  know  what  they  played,  but  we  do 


14  INTRODUCTION 

not  need  to  depend  upon  this  evidence,  for  the  intercourse 
between  the  French  and  English  courts  provides  the 
necessary  connection.  Young1  has  given  proper  emphasis 
to  the  fact  that  in  1 514  Henry  VIII  and  his  sister  Mary 
visited  the  court  of  Louis  XII,  and  that  soon  after  Mary 
and  Louis  were  married.  And  it  was  within  the  court,  and 
under  its  influence,  that  we  find  the  element  of  humor  and 
of  pure  entertainment  taking  more  definitely  literary  and 
artistic  form,  and  achieving  an  assured  social  recognition, 
in  the  plays  of  John  Hey  wood,  which,  indeed,  show  grada- 
tion through  plays  ostensibly  serious  in  subject  to  plays 
frankly  farcical  and  realistic. 

John  Heywood  was  born  in  1497  or  1498,  and  was  al- 
ready in  the  service  of  the  court  in  1514-15.  In  1519 
he  is  entered  in  Henry  VIIFs  Book  of  Payments  as  a 
singer,  in  1526,  1538-42,  as  "player  of  the  virginals"; 
in  1536-37,  his  servant  was  paid  for  bringing  the  Princess 
Mary's  "  regalles  "  (a  form  of  small  organ)  from  London  to 
Greenwich ;  in  March,  1537,  he  was  paid  40s.  for  "  play- 
ing an  interlude  with  his  children  "  before  her  (the  child- 
ren are  assumed  to  have  belonged  to  the  school  of  St. 
Paul's).  He  was  evidently  in  Mary's  favor.  He  took  part 
in  a  pageant  in  St.  Paul's  churchyard  in  honor  of  her 
coronation,  and  in  1553  presented  a  play  at  court  acted  by 
children,  and  in  1558  received  from  her  leases  of  land  in 
Yorkshire.  Elizabeth's  accession  drove  him  into  exile. 
There  are  various  references  to  him  in  state  papers,  includ- 
ing a  letter  thanking  Burleigh  for  the  payment  of  arrears 
on  his  lands  at  Eomney.  From  1575  to  1578  he  was  at 
Antwerp  in  the  Jesuit  college  there,  and  when  its  mem- 
bers were  driven  out,  went  to  Louvain.  In  1587  there  is 
mention  of  him  as  "  dead  and  gone."  2 

Heywood's  career  presents  the  familiar  association  of 
service  as  singer,  musician,  manager  of  a  child's  company 
for  the  presentation  of  plays,  and  author;  what  else  he 

1  "  The  Influence  of  French  Farce  upon  the  Plays  of  John  Heywood," 
Modern  Philology,  2. 

2  On  the  life  of   Heywood,  see  in  particular  Pollard  in  Gayley's  Re- 
presentative English  Comedies,  and  Bang  in  Englische  Studien,  38,  234-50. 


THE  EARLIER  PLAY  15 

may  have  done  (his  authorship  apart  from  his  plays  is  neg- 
ligible) we  do  not  know.  But  his  private  relationships  are 
of  great  interest  and  importance.  He  married  the  grand- 
niece  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  and  his  brother-in-law,  William 
Rastell,  printed  two  plays  certainly  his  and  two  more 
which  are  ascribed  to  him.  A  circle  of  kinsfolk  actively 
interested  in  the  drama  here  discloses  itself.  Sir  Thomas 
More  even  as  a  lad  was  interested  in  pageants  and  plays ; 
the  familiar  story  will  be  recalled  of  his  stepping  among 
players  acting  before  Cardinal  Morton  and  improvising  a 
speaking  part.  John  Heywood,  More's  brother-in-law,  and 
Heywood's  father-in-law,  the  lawyer  and  printer,  printed 
plays  and,  it  is  surmised,  was  himself  a  playwright.  That 
he  gave  a  play  on  a  stage  erected  in  his  garden,  had  cos- 
tumes made  by  a  tailor  whom  Mrs.  Rastell  superintended 
and  assisted,  and  engaged  craftsmen  of  the  half-amateur, 
half-professional  class  to  take  part,  appears  from  the  re- 
cords of  a  law-suit  with  the  agent  or  lessee  who  had  charge 
of  the  costumes  later  and  rented  them  out  for  perform- 
ances.1 

Four  extant  plays  are  certainly  Heywood's.  Wether 
and  Love  bear  his  name  on  the  title-pages  of  editions 
published  by  William  Rastell.  The  earliest  edition  of  the 
Four  P's,  dating  between  1543-47,  gives  him  as  author. 
Witty  and  Witless,  which  survives  in  manuscript  form, 
ends  "  Amen  qd  John  Heywood." 

These  plays  belong  to  a  type  quite  distinct  from  the 
morality  in  form  and  spirit.  They  are  set  debates  or  plead- 
ings on  abstract  questions,  dialogues  which  depend  for 
their  interest  upon  the  outcome  of  a  conflict  of  wits,  the 
adjudication  of  a  case  in  equity,  not  at  all  upon  a  continu- 
ous, and  very  little  upon  incidental,  dramatic  action.  In 
Witty  and  Witless,  the  thesis  is  whether  it  is  better  to 
be  a  fool  or  a  wise  man  ;  in  Love,  the  pains  and  pleasures 
of  love;  in  Wether,  the  hearing  of  pleas  preferred  to 
Jupiter,  by  a  number  of  his  human  subjects,  who  desire 
certain  kinds  of  weather  for  their  profit  or  pleasure,  each 
of  course  wishing  something  different  —  a  gentleman,  mer- 

1  See  Pollard's  Fifteenth  Century  Prose  and  Verse,  pp.  307-21. 


16  INTRODUCTION 

chant,  water-miller,  wind-miller,  gentlewoman,  laundress, 
and  "  boy,  the  least  that  can  play  "  ;  in  The  Four  P's  (i.e., 
"P's"  with  reference  to  the  professions  of  the  participants), 
the  Palmer,  Pardoner,  and  Pothecary  dispute  hotly  as  to 
the  superiority  of  their  callings  and  refer  their  dispute  to 
the  Pedlar,  who  evades  the  responsibility  by  proposing  that 
he  render  judgment  as  to  who  can  tell  the  greatest  lie. 

Delight  in  the  argumentation  and  arbitration  of  set 
questions,  whether  wholly  serious  and  to  our  minds  dull, 
as  in  the  Melibeus  used  by  Chaucer,  or  engagingly  spright- 
ly, as  in  the  early  Owl  and  the  Nightingale,  goes  far  back 
into  medieval  times ;  its  characteristic  artistic  expression 
was  in  ttie  estrif  or  "  debate,"  of  which  the  Owl  and  the 
Nightingale  is  an  example.  With  allegory  it  is  a  leading 
factor  in  the  development  and  long  life  of  the  morality, 
and  it  rendered  easy  the  transition  from  the  religious  mo- 
rality to  the  didactic  and  controversial  morality.  Hey- 
wood's  interludes  differ  sharply  from  the  morality  in  their 
brevity,  in  their  dependence  for  interest  not  upon  alle- 
goric action  but  upon  the  pith,  point,  humor  of  the  dialogue, 
and  in  their  spirit,  for  despite  the  pretense  of  a  serious  in- 
tention their  real  purpose  is  to  afford  entertainment.  Form, 
and  in  large  part  substance,  may  be  alien  to  us  at  this  dis- 
tance of  time,  but  the  true  comedy  spirit  is  there. 

These  plays  (and,  indeed,  the  two  others  to  the  consid- 
eration of  which  we  come  in  a  moment)  were  long  re- 
garded as  an  outgrowth  of  the  morality,  their  radical  de- 
parture from  its  form  and  spirit  being  considered  as  due 
to  Heywood's  original  genius.  The  probability  is  that 
these  dialogues  are  due  to  inspiration  from  the  French, 
and  that  Heywood,  with  use  of  native  material  and  with 
indubitable  originality  and  skill,  naturalized  the  new  type 
found  in  French  models.  In  the  case  of  one,  Young  has 
pointed  out  a  French  parallel.  Wit  and  Folly  presents  the 
same  ideas  as  the  French  Dyalogue  du  Fol  et  du  Sage. 
Both,  indeed,  show  direct  influence  from  the  Encomium 
Morice  of  Erasmus,  but  the  resemblance  to  the  French  di- 
alogue is  such  as  materially  to  strengthen  the  probability 
that  England  owed  the  type  to  France. 


THE  EARLIER  PLAY  17 

Among  these  four  plays  is  one,  The  Four  P's,  which, 
while  it  is  in  form  a  debate,  is  so  free  from  any  pretense 
of  serious  purpose,  so  undisguised  ly  intended  for  purposes 
of  merriment,  and  so  realistic  in  its  characterization,  that, 
as  Young  has  said,  it  shows  close  affiliation  with  the  farce. 
The  point  is  important,  for  we  now  reach  two  plays  as- 
cribed to  Hey  wood  on  internal  evidence  only  —  save  for 
the  single  fact,  for  what  it  is  worth,  that  both  were  pub- 
lished by  William  Rastell.  In  the  Pardoner  and  the 
Friar,  the  Curate  and  Neighbor  Pratt,  the  Pardoner  and 
Friar,  urging  their  respective  claims  upon  a  congregation 
in  a  parish  church,  reach  a  point  where  they  drop  argu- 
ment and  abuse  for  a  rough-and-tumble  fight.  The  curate 
of  the  church  enters  and,  in  wrath,  with  the  help  of 
Neighbor  Pratt,  is  about  to  carry  them  oif  for  punishment, 
when  they  suddenly  turn  the  tables  on  their  captors  and 
go  free.  In  the  justly  famous  Merry  Play  between  Johan 
the  Husband  Johan,  Tyb  his  wife,  and  Sir  Johan  the 
Priest,  usually  called  Johan  Johan,  the  husband  Johan 
Johan,  divided  between  anger  and  cowardice,  is  set  to  soft- 
ening wax  at  the  fire  to  mend  a  leaky  pail,  while  his  wife 
Tyb  and  her  lover,  the  priest,  eat  a  pie  of  which  Johan 
Johan  gets  no  share.  Anger  at  last  overcomes  his  coward- 
ice and  fear  of  a  scandal ;  he  belabors  them  and  drives 
them  out,  yields  again  immediately  to  his  fears,  and  goes 
after  them  lest  his  outburst  might  lead  to  his  further  be- 
trayal. 

There  can  be  no  question  of  Heywood's  authorship  of 
these  two  plays  —  the  internal  evidence  is  too  strong.  It 
may  be  objected  that  from  the  dramatic  standpoint  they 
are  strikingly  superior  to  Heywood's  known  plays ;  but 
this  objection  may  be  answered  by  pointing  to  The  Four 
P's  among  the  known  plays.  It  is  true,  also,  that  any  pre- 
tense of  conventional  moralizing  is  frankly  abandoned  for 
lively  realism,  — in  both,  as  Boas  notes,  the  evil-doers  are 
finally  triumphant,  —  while  the  known  plays  (save  The 
Four  P's)  treat  themes  of  a  recognized  status  and  open 
and  close  upon  a  note  of  edification.  This  objection  is  at 
once  removed  when  it  is  remembered  that  the  debate  pre- 


18  INTRODUCTION 

supposes  a  moral,  while  the  farce  (both  plays  in  their  titles 
are  called  "  merry  "  plays)  is  expressly  freed  from  moral 
restraint. 

In  the  case  of  these  two  plays,  as  in  his  dialogues,  the 
assumption  is  unavoidable  that  Heywood  worked  upon 
French  models.  A  close  parallel  to  Johan  Johan  is  af- 
forded by  the  French  farce  De  Pernet  qui  va  au  vin,  and 
there  is  a  general  similarity  in  situation,  though  not  in 
detail,  to  the  Pardoner  and  the  Friar  in  a  French  farce 
dealing  with  a  contest  between  a  Pardoner  and  an  Apoth- 
ecary. In  both  cases,  Heywood's  plays  are  thoroughly 
English,  wholly  his  own  ;  in  the  second,  his  inspiration 
is  derived  in  large  part  from  Chaucer,  and  influence  from 
the  French  cannot  confidently  be  asserted.  But  the  con- 
clusion seems  unavoidable  that  he  knew  and  was  influenced 
by  French  farce. 

The  exact  character  and  extent  of  the  French  influ- 
ence upon  Heywood  needs,  however,  careful  definition ; 
the  very  fact  that  his  plays  are  made  thoroughly  English 
indicates  this.  Young,  in  urging  the  indebtedness  of  Hey- 
wood to  French  models,  is  inclined  to  the  view  that  any- 
thing resembling  the  genre  of  farce  in  France  was  un- 
known in  England.  The  presumption,  as  shown  above,  is 
the  other  way.  What  happened  may  well  have  been  this. 
The  English  court,  through  French  minstrels  in  Eng- 
land and  visits  to  France,  learned  in  France  of  a  new 
type  of  play,  the  dramatized  debate.  It  also  found  that 
in  France  greater  consideration  'was  paid  to  the  "  merry 
play,"  the  farce;  that  this  type  of  play,  which  in  Eng- 
land occupied  a  humble  and  casual  place  and  was  under 
the  Church's  disfavor,  had  come  to  be  treated  there 
by  men  of  superior  edvication  with  artistic  skill  and  with 
wit  and  spirit,  and"  had  shouldered  aside  other  types  of 
play  in  the  regard  of  the  court.  For  a  similar  develop- 
ment the  English  court  was  quite  ready ;  the  story  may  be 
recalled  of  Henry  VHI's  leaving  in  the  midst  of  the  per- 
formance of  a  morality  which  he  found  tedious.  Heywood 
was  the  appointed  medium  for  the  development  of  the 
new  types.  He  used  French  models,  but  he  also  had  na- 


INFLUENCE  OF  THE  CLASSIC  DRAMA      19 

tive  English  traditions  and  material  to  draw  from.  It  is 
not  derogatory  to  his  genius  to  say  that  otherwise  his  de- 
pendence upon  French  sources  wonld  have  been  more 
close  and  definite.  It  may  be  added  that  this  general  view 
does  not  subtract  materially  from  his  merits.  His  freedom 
and  cleverness  in  the  use  of  his  materials  is  plain  enough  in 
any  case,  and  there  can  be  no  question  of  his  great  influence 
upon  the  general  development  of  the  drama,  —  to  which,  of 
course,  his  connection  with  the  court  substantially  contrib- 
uted. Through  Heywood,  plays  depending  upon  humor 
alone,  and  freed  of  the  didactic  element,  achieved  an  as- 
sured standing.  Their  direct  successors  are  farces  and 
broad  comedy  upon  native  themes  such  as  Gammer  Gur- 
ton's  Needle. 


II 

THE  INFLUENCE  OF  THE  CLASSIC  DRAMA 

We  must  turn  next  to  an  element  of  very  great  import- 
ance in  the  development  of  the  artistic  comedy,  and  one 
of  still  greater  importance  in  the  development  of  the 
tragedy,  namely,  the  influence  of  the  classic  drama.  This 
for  a  moment  will  take  us  far  afield. 

In  that  complex  movement  termed  the  Renaissance, 
when,  after  testing  and  discarding  old  beliefs  and  methods, 
a  new  intellectual  world  was  framed,  the  most  important 
element  in  effecting  the  transition  from  medievalism  to 
modernity  was  humanism,  that  is,  the  study  of  the 
past  —  the  study  of  the  philosophy  and  literature  of  the 
ancient  world  —  in  order  to  apply  the  lessons  thereby 
learned  to  the  problems  of  the  present.  We  are  not  con- 
cerned here  with  humanism  in  its  larger  and  more  import- 
ant relations  as  transforming  man's  whole  interpretation 
of  the  meaning  and  purpose  of  life,  but  with  its  effects 
upon  literature  and  upon  a  special  literary  mode,  the  drama. 
Humanism  had  an  immediate  effect  upon  pxire  literature 
.in  that  it  gave  it  greater  freedom  of  development,  but  it 


20  INTRODUCTION 

is  well  to  note  also  that  literature  per  se  was  not  a  vital 
issue  with  all  humanists.  In  point  of  fact  humanism  re- 
placed the  old  didacticisms  by  didacticisms  of  its  own, 
which  necessarily  persisted  until  certain  lessons  had  been 
learned.  This  truth  has  a  direct  reference  to  the  drama, 
for  it  is  only  too  easy  to  make  the  hasty  assumption  that, 
with  the  recovery  and  study  of  the  classics,  the  use  of 
classic  plays  as  models  would  readily  and  directly  lead 
to  an  advance  in  artistic  quality. 

Of  the  Latin  dramatists,  Terence  only  was  more  or  less 
widely  read  during  the  Middle  Ages.  But  even  Terence 
was  not  imitated  in  strict  dramatic  form.1  It  seems  clear 
also  that  the  classic  dramas  which  were  known  were  not 
played.  This  appears  from  the  widespread  misunderstand- 
ing of  the  terms  "  tragedy  "  and  "comedy"  as  applied  to 
narrative  poems  of  sad  or  happy  ending,  and  from  the 
fact  that  no  one  understood  that  the  classic  dramas  were 
presented  by  impersonation  with  spoken  dialogue,  the 
nearest  approach  to  a  proper  conception  of  the  manner  of 
their  rendition  being  that  they  were  declaimed  by  the  poet 
from  an  elevated  pulpit  while  the  action  was  performed 
in  dumb-show  by  assistants  below.2 

The  earliest  use  of  the  classical  drama,  in  the  plays  of 
Terence,  did  not  spring  apparently  from  a  realization  of 
its  original  purpose.  There  exist,  dating  from  an  early 
period,  narrative  poems  in  Latin,  partly  dramatic  in  form 
as  carried  on  largely  or  wholly  in  dialogue,  evidently  sug- 
gested by  and  sometimes  containing  material  drawn  from 
Terence,  —  though  based  in  larger  part  on  current  medie- 
val material,  —  which  plainly  at  first  were  delivered  in 
monologue.  Cloetta  would  regard  these  as  designed  for 
use  by  minstrels;  this  is  improbable  as  supposing  many 
audiences  sufficiently  versed  in  Latin  —  such  audiences 
as  would  only  be  found  in  the  monastery  or  chapter-house. 

1  The  plays  of  Hrotswitha,  the  nun  of  Gandersheim,  about  1000,  form 
an  exception,  but  one,  it  is  probable,  of  curious  interest  only. 

2  See  on  this  whole  subject  William  Creizenach,  Geschicfite  des  Neu- 
reren  Dramas,  and  Wilhelm  Cloetta,  Beitraye  zur  Litteraturijeschichte 
des  Mittelalters  und  die  Jlenaistance,  Komiidie.  und  Trngodie  im  Mitttl- 
alUr,  or  Chambers's  helpful  summary  and  comment,  2207  ff. 


INFLUENCE  OF  THE  CLASSIC  DRAMA      21 

Chambers  sees  no  reason  why  the  more  edifying  of  them 
should  not  have  been  school-pieces.  This  supposition  is 
acceptable  if  we  remove  all  restrictions  and  surmise  that 
they  may  have  been  the  work  of  clerics  or  monks ;  of 
students  at  the  universities ;  or  of  schoolmasters  for  use 
in  their  schools.  In  large  part,  it  seems  probable,  they 
may  be  referred  to  members  of  the  faculty  or  students  in 
the  universities  —  written  for  the  delectation  of  special 
circles,  or  for  public  festival  occasions ;  now  in  the  ver- 
nacular, or  again  in  Latin,  especially  if  intended  for  an 
audience  of  students  from  various  countries.  With  the 
fifteenth  century  these  quasi-dramatic  pieces  approximate 
more  nearly  to  dramatic  form,  as  consisting  wholly  of  dia- 
logue, or  may  even  contain  a  true  dramatic  action,  albeit 
slight  and  rudimentary.  Just  when  the  acting  of  such 
pieces  began  is  not  clear.  But  two  points  are  clear  and  of 
importance.  The  acting  of  such  pieces  composed  by  school- 
masters for  presentation  by  their  scholars  to  afford  them 
practice  in  Latin  gave  rise  to  the  Latin  school-play.  The 
writing  of  such  plays  eventually  became  general  through- 
out Italy,  France,  Germany,  Holland,  and  England.  The 
second  point  is  that,  while  they  may  on  occasion  make 
use  of  material  from  Terence,  they  do  not  show,  until  a 
late  period  and  because  of  a  separate  development  to  be 
spoken  of  in  a  moment,  any  realization  of  any  advantage 
to  be  attained  by  an  imitation  of  the  form  of  Roman 
comedy.  They  are  purely  contemporary  in  their  affiliation 
with  current  modes  of  drama  —  the  farce  or  other  forms 
of  lighter  entertainment  on  the  one  hand,  and  miracles 
and  moralities  on  the  other.  The  object  may  be  merely 
entertainment,  as  in  such  a  little  piece  as  the  Thersites, 
one  of  the  dialogi  of  J.  Ravisius  Textor  (died  1530)  pro- 
fessor of  rhetoric  in  Paris  and  later  rector  of  the  university  ; 
or  the  inculcation  of  moral  truth,  as  in  the  important 
series  of  plays  upon  the  parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son 
which  started  in  Holland  and  which  displays  closer  imita- 
tion of  Terence ;  or  to  bring  an  effective  weapon  to  bear 
in  theological  controversy,  as  in  the  plays  of  Kirchmayer 
in  Germany,  Sixtus  Birck  and  Niklas  Manuel  in  Switzer- 


22  INTRODUCTION 

land,  Wickram  in  Alsace,  the  famous  Scotchman,  George 
Buchanan  (who  made  use  of  Seneca)  in  Bordeaux.  Here 
at  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century  the  school-play 
merges  with  the  controversial  and  didactic  morality,  and 
is  also  under  a  specific  influence  from  the  classic  drama  of 
quite  separate  origin,  and  more  distinctly  non-didactic 
and  artistic. 

Returning  to  the  study  of  the  classic  drama  among  the 
humanists,  there  came  an  important  result  of  the  fruits  of 
this  study  among  the  humanists  of  Italy  in  the  fourteenth 
and  fifteenth  centuries.  Seneca  and  Plautus  were  read  as 
well  as  Terence,  and  plays  —  for  reading  only,  not  im- 
personation —  were  modeled  upon  them.1 

The  eager  interest  of  the  humanists  was  intensified  by 
the  discovery  in  1427  of  twelve  plays  of  Plautus.  While  it 
•was  for  the  most  part  concentrated  on  the  Latin  drama, 
there  was  also  study  and  translation  of  the  Greek  drama 
in  Italy  throughout  the  fifteenth  century  ;  this  was  limited 
in  amount  and  far  less  fruitful  in  its  influence  upon  the 
growth  of  a  new  drama. 

The  interest  of  the  humanists  was  one  largely  academic 
and  scholarly,  and  too  far  removed  from  those  aims  and 
impulses  that  are  essential  to  the  production  of  a  literature 
possessed  of  life  and  possibilities  of  independent  growth. 
The  revitalization  of  the  old  drama,  the  true  recovery  of 
it  for  its  proper  purpose,  in  its  proper  relation,  by  staging 
and  impersonation,  seem  to  have  been  long  deferred.  Event- 
ually this  important  advance  was  made.  Classic  plays  were 
first  acted  in  Italy  in  the  fifteenth  century.  Strange  as  it 
may  seem,  there  was  no  general  understanding  that  these 
plays  had  been  intended  for  impersonation  until  the  six- 
teenth century.  The  fact  that  plays  in  Latin  were  being 
played  —  the  school-plays  described  above  with  their  use  of 
classic  material  and  fumbling  imitation  of  classic  plays  — 

l  For  example,  Mussato,  Ecerinis,  about  1314,  Senecan  tragedy  ; 
Petrarch,  Philologia,  before  1331,  Terentian  comedy  ;  Aretino,  Poliscene, 
about  1390,  Terentian  comedy  ;  Carrarro,  Proyne,  before  1428,  Terentian 
comedy  ;  Ugolino,  Philogena,  before  1437,  Terentian  comedy  ;  Dati, 
Hiempsal,  1441,  a  tragedy  based  in  part  on  Plautus. 


INFLUENCE  OF  THE  CLASSIC  DRAMA      23 

does  not  seem  to  have  suggested  the  experiment  of  playing  the 
classic  plays  themselves.  In  Italy  the  realization  of  their 
original  mode  of  representation  seems  to  have  come  through 
Alberti's  work  on  architecture,  1452,  based  on  the  De 
Architectures  of  Vitruvius,1  whose  references  to  the  Ro- 
man stage  made  the  fact  plain.  Alberti  built  a  theatrum 
in  the  Vatican  for  Nicholas  V,  but  there  is  no  record  of 
its  use,  as  the  followers  of  Nicholas  were  not  humanists. 
It  was  through  the  influence  of  Pomponius  Lsetus,  a  pro- 
fessor in  the  University  of  Rome,  that  the  Aslnaria  of 
Plautus  and  the  Phcedra  of  Seneca  were  given,  the  latter 
with  sensational  success.  A  year  or  two  later  in  1486,  the 
Mencechmi  was  given  at  Ferrara,  and  at  the  Vatican  in 
1502.  The  Mostellaria  was  given  in  1499,  and  translations 
were  played  at  Mantua,  Gazzuolo,  and  Venice,  the  presenta- 
tions of  Plautus  at  Mantua  deserving  special  note.  The 
first  close  imitation  of  classic  comedy  is  credited  to  Harmo- 
nius  Marius,  about  1500  ;  such  close  imitations  were,  how- 
ever, few.  A  similar  development  in  the  rest  of  Europe  was 
delayed  till  the  sixteenth  century,  though  the  movement 
in  Italy  was  known,  and  though  Terence  and  Seneca  were 
studied  in  the  fresh  light  this  knowledge  afforded.  The 
school-dialogue  and  the  lesser  forms  of  humanistic  drama 
growing  out  of  it  continued  to  suffice,  and,  either  through 
ignorance  of  the  new  movement  or  failure  to  realize  its 
possibilities  in  the  way  of  interest,  it  was  not  till  well  on 
in  the  first  quarter  of  the  sixteenth  century  that  the 
presentation  of  plays  of  Terence  in  the  schools  became 
general.  Before  this  an  effort  to  imitate  more  closely  the 
"  regularity  "  of  the  Latin  play  in  the  humanistic  comedy 
can  be  perceived,  but  the  influence  of  more  frequent 
presentation  of  the  plays  themselves  as  emphasizing  their 
superiority  could  not  but  be  great  both  upon  the  school- 
master who  drilled  his  pupils  and  upon  the  pupils  when 
later  themselves  essaying  dramatic  composition. 

While  the   study  and  imitation  of  classic  tragedy  went 
through   the  same  stages  as  appear  in  the  case  of  comedy, 
there  is  one  important  difference.   Even  when  it  was  un- 
1  See  Creizenacb,  2,  1  ff. 


24  INTRODUCTION 

derstood  that  classic  plays  had  been  impersonated,  and 
the  plays  had  been  given  in  the  Latin  or  the  vernacular, 
and  attempts  had  been  made  to  imitate  them  closely,  the 
older  forms  of  humanistic  comedy  and  morality  held  their 
own  and  obstructed  the  artistic  advance  of  the  comedy  which 
close  imitation  would  have  insured.  In  the  case  of  tragedy 
there  was  also  the  obstacle  that  the  comedy  of  both  kinds 
offered  obstruction  to  the  writing  of  tragedy,  and  even 
within  the  academic  circles  in  which  the  general  move- 
ment originated  it  was  long  before  the  conception  of  trag- 
edy proper  became  clear  and  created  its  separate  and  indi- 
vidual appeal.  Despite  the  study  and  imitation  and  acting 
of  Seneca  in  Italy  in  the  fifteenth  century,  there  was  not 
in  the  early  sixteenth  century  a  clear  conception  of  trag- 
edy as  a  mode  distinct  from  comedy.  The  only  difference 
between  them  apparently  to  the  playwright  was  that  the 
one  had  a  happy  ending  and  the  other  a  sad  ending.  This 
appears  in  the  so-called  dram-mi  mescidati,  or  dramas  of 
mixed  mode,  in  which,  by  gradual  adaptation,  tragedy  and 
comedy  became  differentiated,  and  a  conception  was  formed 
of  their  separate  and  appropriate  forms.  Early,  it  must  at 
once  be  noted,  —  in  Filostrato  e  Panfila,  played  1499, — 
a  feature  of  special  importance,  the  use  of  the  tragic  chorus 
in  so-called  intermedi  or  interludes,  which  divide  the  ac- 
tion into  five  acts,  is  introduced  from  Seneca.  To  use  of 
the  chorus  follows  use  of  a  subject  from  ancient  history, 
as  in  the  Sofonisba  of  Galeotto.  A  gradual  approach  to 
observance  of  the  unity  of  place  and  the  limitation  of  the 
action  follows,  leading  through  a  train  of  tragi-comedies 
or  plays  of  purely  tragic  theme  (among  which  the  Sofon- 
isba of  Trissino  stands  out  as  a  marked  advance  in  its  ob- 
servance of  unity  of  place,  its  use  of  blank  verse  instead 
of  a  variety  of  meters,  its  imitation  of  both  Greek  and 
Latin  meters)  to  the  Orbeche  of  Cinthio,  the  first  "  regu- 
lar" Italian  tragedy  and  the  first  "regular"  modern  trag- 
edy presented  on  the  stage.  This  was  acted  in  1541.  In 
Germany,  though  plays  of  Seneca  were  printed  as  early 
as  1487,  and  Senecan  and  Greek  tragedy  were  acted  in 
schools  about  1525,  classic  tragedy  was  not  imitated  until 


INFLUENCE  OF  THE  CLASSIC  DRAMA       25 

the  seventeenth  century,  the  school-play  and  its  related 
forms  occupying  the  field.  In  France,  where  there  appears 
less  evidence  of  early  study  of  the  classic  tragedies,  the  in- 
fluence of  the  Biblical  tragedies  of  the  Scotch  humanist, 
Buchanan  at  Bordeaux,  and  Muret's  tragedy  of  Julius 
Ccesar,  gave  inspiration,  before  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  to  a  series  of  original  tragedies  as  well  as  transla- 
tions of  Latin,  Greek,  and  Italian  tragedies,  which  culmi- 
nate in  the  Cleopatre  Captive  of  Jodelle  (1552),  and  the 
Medee  of  Jean  de  la  Perouse  (before  1553),  based  directly 
upon  Seneca,  but  influenced  also  by  Euripides.  With 
these  tragedies — though  others  followed  naturally  which 
were  less  advanced  in  type  —  the  classic  tragedy  of  France 
may  be  said  to  begin.  In  Spain,  apart  from  translation, 
there  was  no  attempt  at  formal  tragedy  until  toward  the 
end  of  the  century.  In  Portugal,  already  in  the  middle  of 
the  century  the  individual  genius  of  Ferrera,  who  prob- 
ably knew  the  Sophonisba  of  Trissino,  achieved  a  great 
tragedy  upon  the  theme  of  Inez  di  Castro.  In  the  general 
development,  two  facts  become  clear.  The  development  of 
tragedy  was  obstructed  by  the  older  and  newer  types  of 
comedy — as  well,  of  course,  by  the  difficulty  of  arriving 
at  a  clear  appreciation  of  tragedy  as-  a  separate  mode. 
Also,  earlier  plays,  through  their  direct  imitation  of  Sen- 
eca, are  often  measurably  more  close  to  the  classic  model 
than  plays  which  follow  —  but,  in  these  plays  which  fol- 
low, there  is  a  gradual  working  towards  closer  imitation, 
which  is,  in  fact,  more  fruitful  than  mechanical  imitation, 
as  representing  a  growth  in  the  real  understanding  of  the 
underlying  principles  of  the  classic  form,  and  their  adop- 
tion or  modification  in  accordance  with  the  individual 
genius  of  the  country. 

The  history  of  the  movement  in  its  main  outlines  is 
clear,  even  though  the  details  of  the  interplay  of  forces 
old  and  new  is  now  hard  to  trace  with  precision.  With 
this  survey  of  the  movement  throughout  Europe  we  may 
pass  to  its  manifestations  in  England.  Of  the  secular 
school-dialogue  in  England  there  are  no  traces  until  the 
imitation,  acted  1537,  of  Kavisius  Textor's  little  dialogue 


26  INTRODUCTION 

of  Thersites,  a  farce  on  the  motive  of  the  u  braggart  cap- 
tain," in  this  case  represented  by  a  boy  whose  braggart 
courage  disappears  at  sight  of  a  snail,  sending  him  for  pro- 
tection to  his  mother,  and  the  Latin,  possibly  also  English, 
"  tragedies  "  and  "  comedies"  acted  at  the  school  of  Ralph 
Radclif  at  Hitchin,  established  in  1538.  Of  a  previous 
native  development  of  the  school-dialogue  there  are  no 
traces,  and  the  possibility  of  any  general  origination  of 
plays  of  this  simpler  type  was  estopped  by  the  production 
of  classic  plays  and  imitations  of  them.  In  1520  a  comedy 
of  Plautus  was  presented  at  the  court  of  Henry  VIII.  The 
boys  of  St.  Paul's  school  under  their  master,  John  Rit- 
wise,  who  had  acted  a  Continental  morality  before  Henry 
in  1527,  acted  the  Phormio  before  Wolsey  in  1528,  per- 
haps also  the  Mencechmi  in  1527;  and  they  gave  —  at 
what  time  is  unknown  —  Ritwise's  own  Latin  tragedy  of 
Dido.  The  scholars  of  Eton  were  producing  plays  by 
1525-27.  In  the  universities,  the  giA'ing  of  plays  can  be 
traced  back  at  Oxford  to  1486.  At  Cambridge  the  earliest 
record  is  1536,  but  the  play  on  this  occasion  was  the 
Plutus  of  Aristophanes  in  the  Greek.  Representations  of 
classic  plays  at  the  universities  are  not  recorded  before 
1550  save  in  this  case  and  the  production  of  the  Pax  of 
Aristophanes  in  1546  also  at  Cambridge.  The  translation 
of  classic  plays  into  English  began  with  the  Andria  of 
Terence  under  the  title  of  Terens  in  English,  perhaps 
printed  by  John  Rastell,  and,  if  so,  to  be  dated  before 
1533.  Before  1550  Greek  plays  were  being  translated  into 
Latin  by  Ascham  and  Cheke,  and  Latin  plays  were  being 
written  on  Greek  models.  Two  plays  in  Latin,  a  certain 
Marcus  Geminus,  and  a  tragedy  Proc/ne,  by  Canon  Calf- 
hill,  were  given  before  Elizabeth  on  the  occasion  of  her 
visit  to  Oxford,  1564,  and  an  intended  production  of  Ajax 
Flagellifer  was  omitted  owing  to  the  Queen's  fatigue.  The 
numerous  translations  and  imitations  of  the  classics  follow- 
ing upon  the  awakened  interest  in  the  classics,  and  lying 
beyond  the  sixties,  fall  beyond  the  scope  of  this  volume. 


AUTHOR  AND  PLAY  27 

III 

AUTHOR  AND  PLAY 

1.    NICHOLAS    UDALL 

The  Ralph  Roister  Doister  of  Nicholas  Udall  is  the 
first  English  play  which  we  possess  —  probably  the  first 
English  play  of  substantial  merit  —  to  show  the  influ- 
ence, in  substance  and  in  form,  of  the  study  of  the  classic 
drama. 

Born  in  Hampshire  in  1505,  Nicholas  Udall 1  was 
admitted  scholar  at  Winchester  in  1517  (aged  twelve)  and 
scholar  of  Corpus  Christi,  Oxford,  January  18,  1520 
(having  "past  his  fifteenth  year  at  Christmas").  He 
received  the  baccalaureate  degree  May  30,  1524,  and  was 
appointed  probationary  fellow  September  30.  About  1526, 
he  was  one  of  several  arrested  on  Wolsey's  order  for  pos- 
session of  Tyndale's  New  Testament  and  the  purchase  of 
Lutheran  books.  Upon  recantation  he  was  released,  but  sus- 
picion of  Lutheran  tendencies  delayed  his  proceeding  M.  A. 
until  1534.  He  became  at  Oxford  a  close  friend  of  the 
great  antiquary,  John  Leland,  among  whose  poems  are  three 
which  praise  his  learningand  generous  temper  (Collectanea, 
1774,  5,  89,  90,  105).  The  two  friends  were  joint  authors 
of  verses  used  in  a  pageant  in  celebration  of  the  coronation 
of  Anne  Boleyn  in  1533.2  Under  this  date,  though  Udall's 

1  See,  in  particular,  for  his  life,  W.  D.  Cooper,  ed.  R.  K.  D.,  Shake- 
speare Society,  1847  ;  E.  Arber,  ed.  R.  R.  D.,   English  Reprints,  1869 ; 
J    \V.  Hales,  Enyliscke  Studien,  18,  408  (189-3);  E.  Flugel  in  An  English. 
Miscellany,  1901 ;  also  his  edition  of  R.  R.  D.  in  C.  M.  Gayley's  Repre- 
sentative English  Comedies ;  E.  K.  Chambers,   Mediaeval  Stage,  2,  451  ; 
F.  S.  Boas,   Cambridge  History  of  English,  Literature,    5,  45,  452.  The 
articles  in  the  Dictionary  of  National  Biof/rnphy  and  in  the  edition  by 
Williams  and  Robin  contain  serious  errors.  See  also  the  now  current 
error  in  regard  to  the  dates  of  Udall's  vicariate  of  Braintree,  corrected 
below. 

2  Date  corrected  by  Fliigel  in  Gayley,  89.  For  Udall's  verses  (which 
show  the  influence  of  Skelton),  see  Arber's  English  Garner,  2,  52. 


28  INTRODUCTION 

preface  is  dated  1534,  was  published  Udall's  Flour es  for 
Latine  Spekynge  selected  and  gathered  out  of  Terence, 
a  most  successful  school-book,  which,  with  two  enlargements, 
ran  through  five  further  editions  by  1581.1  In  the  preface, 
written  from  the  Augustinian  monastery  in  London,  Udall 
dedicated  the  work  to  his  pupils,  so  that  he  was  probably 
teaching  in  London  at  this  time. 

In  1534  he  proceeded  M.A.  and  was  appointed  Magister 
Informator  (head  master)  of  Eton.  Traditions  of  his 
severity  in  the  use  of  the  birch  are  due  to  Tusser's  refer- 
ence to  his  having  received  at  one  time  fifty  stripes  from 
him  "for  fault  but  small,  or  none  at  all."  2 

Evidence  of  dramatic  activity  at  Eton  is  drawn  from 
a  consuetudinary,  or  book  of  customs,  of  the  school  dating 
about  1560,  in  which  it  is  said  that  the  master  of  the 
plays  may  also  present  plays  in  English  if  they  possess  keen 
wit  and  grace.  Contemporary  evidence  is  afforded  by 
Thomas  Cromwell's  accounts  for  1538,  "  Woodall,  the 
schoolmaster  of  Eton,  for  playing  before  my  Lord,  £5."  3 

While  head  master  at  Eton,  Udall  held  the  vicariate  of 
Brain  tree  in  Essex  from  1537  to  1544.  The  dates  are 
given  by  Chambers  incorrectly  (in  consequence  of  a  slip  in 
Karl  Pearson's  The  Chances  of  Death,  2,  412,  note)  as 
1533-37,  with  the  suggestion  that  Udall  "  not  improbably 
wrote  the  play  of  Placidas,  alias  Sir  Eustace,  recorded 
in  1534  in  the  church- ward  ens'  accounts."  The  error,  and 
this  infererence  from  it,  are  repeated  in  the  Cambridge 
History  and  elsewhere.4 

In  1541,  silver  images  and  other  plate  were  removed 
from  the  chapel  at  Eton  by  two  of  the  pupils  of  the 
school  with  connivance  of  Udall's  servant,  Gregory. 
Udall  was  accused  of  complicity  and  of  other  offenses,  was 

1  Compare  Boas,  Cambridge  History,  5,  45,  452. 

2  Cooper's  citation  from  Ascham  to  similar  effect  is  shown  by  Fliigel 
to  be  in  error. 

8  Chambers,  2,  451,  citing  Brewer,  xiv,  2,  234. 

4  The  dates  are  given  correctly  by  Cooper.  Full  details  have  been 
most  courteously  furnished  me  by  the  Rev.  J.  W.  Kenworthy,  former 
Vicar  of  Braintree,  who  writes  that  he  has  in  hand  an  article  upon 
Udall's  vicariate  of  Braintree. 


AUTHOR  AND  PLAY  29 

imprisoned,  and  lost  his  position.  The  charges  were  not 
sustained,  or  were  dropped.  A  letter  from  Udall  without 
superscription,  addressed  to  some  person  in  high  authority, 
probably  Sir  Thomas  Wriothesley,  one  of  the  Secretaries 
of  State,  expresses  his  gratitude  for  attempts  to  restore  him 
to  his  head  mastership,  makes  confession  of  debt  and  disso- 
lute habits,  and  promises  with  deep  contrition  entire  amend- 
ment of  life.1 

In  1542  2  he  published  his  translation  of  two  books  of 
Erasmus's  Apophthegms,  and  for  the  next  three  years  he 
was  one  of  the  collaborators  upon  the  translation  of  Eras- 
mus's Paraphrase  of  the  New  Testament,  approved  by 
Henry  VIII  before  his  death,  and  a  cherished  project  of 
Queen  Katharine.  In  this  work  the  Princess  Mary  took 
part  as  a  translator  until  prevented  by  ill-health.  In  addi- 
tion to  his  labors  as  translator,  Udall  had  general  supervision 
of  the  first  volume,  and  wrote  three  prefatory  epistles  to 
it,  one  to  King  Edward,  one  to  the  reader,  and  one  to  Kath- 
arine, in  which  he  highly  praised  the  learning  of  the 
Princess  Mary.  During  the  reign  of  Edward,  Udall  was 
engaged  upon  theological  works  and  in  preaching.3 

Bale,  in  his  Illustrium  Scriptorium  Summatio  refers, 
in  the  edition  of  1548,  to  a  Tragoedia  de  Papatu  (i.e., 
papal  office,  papacy),  probably  a  translation  of  Ochino's 
work.  A  continuous  dramatic  activity  is  not  necessarily 
indicated  by  this  latter  reference.  During  Edward's  reign 
we  have  note  of  other  activities,  but  he  may  well  have 

1  See  this  letter,  newly  collated,  in  FliigePs  Lesebuch,  1,  351,  and  cf. 
Hales,  Enylische  Studien,  18,  414,  note. 

2  A  sojourn  in  the   "north,"  apparently  to  engage  in  teaching,  the 
subject  of  one  of  Leland's  poems,  is  referred  by  Fliigel  to  this  year.  His 
stay  in  any  case  must  have  been  short  and  the  matter  is  without  mo- 
ment. 

3  His  tract  in  answer  to  the  rebels  of  Devonshire  and  Cornwall  (Cam- 
den  Society,  1884)  show  him  still  an  ardent  reformer.  In  1551  he  pub- 
lished a  translation  of  Peter  Martyr's  Tractatus  de  Eucharista  et  dispu- 
Ititio  de  Eucharista,  under  a  royal  patent  which  also  licensed  him  to  print 
the  Bible  in  English,  a  valuable  privilege  which  he  apparently  did  not 
use.  He  was  also  tutor  to  Edward  Courtenay,  who  was  imprisoned  in  the 
tower,  arid  likewise  served  for  some  time  as  tutor  in  Bishop  Gardiner's 
family,  who  left  him   a  bequest.    A  collection  of  letters  addressed  to 
Leland  and  llorman  (vice-provost  of  Eton)  is  cited  by  Bale. 


30  INTRODUCTION 

continued,  at  court,  his  old  interest  in  dramatic  matters. 
The  King's  favor  was  shown  him  by  his  presentation  in 
1551  to  a  prebend  in  Windsor,  and  by  a  request  in  the 
following  year  that  he  be  paid  emoluments  which  he  had 
forfeited  by  not  taking  residence  owing  to  preaching  en- 
gagements. In  1552  he  published  a  folio  edition,  notable 
for  the  beauty  of  its  plates,  of  T.  Gemini's  Anatomy.  In 
1553  he  was  presented  by  the  King  to  the  Parsonage  of 
Calborne,  Isle  of  Wight.  It  was  in  this  year  that  Thomas 
Wilson  quoted  the  letter  from  Ralph  Roister  Doister  in 
his  Rule  of  Reason,  which  establishes  Udall's  author- 
ship. 

Still  an  active  reformer  in  Edward's  reign,  there  is  no 
evidence  that  Udall  trimmed  to  secure  Mary's  continued 
favor. 1  Mary  simply  continued  her  old  favor  and  patronage 
to  him  as  she  did  to  Ascham.  She  would  not  be  likely  to 
forget  her  association  with  him  in  the  translation  of  Eras- 
mus's Paraphrase,  and  the  compliments  he  paid  her 
learning  in  the  preface  to  Katharine.  Moreover,  he  could 
serve  her,  if  not  as  a  theologian,  as  a  playwright  and  man- 
ager. His  dramatic  activities  at  this  time  are  intimately 
associated  with  the  date  of  Rafyh  Roister  Doister  and 
may  be  more  conveniently  treated  below. 

In  1555  he  is  mentioned  as  head  master  of  Westmin- 
ster School.  The  date  of  his  appointment  is  unknown. 
Alexander  Newell  was  master  from  1543  to  1553.  Whether 
Udall  followed  him  immediately  or  not  does  not  appear 
from  the  records,  —  a  fact  to  be  regretted  as  the  matter 
has  important  bearings  to  be  referred  to  later.  In  Nov- 
ember, 1556,  Udall  lost  the  head  mastership  upon  the 
reestablish ment  of  the  monastery  of  Westminster,  died  in 
the  following  month,  and  was  buried  in  St.  Margaret's, 
Westminster,  December  23.  It  remains  only  to  note  that 
in  the  1557  edition  of  Bale's  Summarinm,  mention  is 
made  of  comedias  plures  by  Udall,  and  that,  on  August 

i  Sidney  Lee's  assumption  that  the  "  Mr.  Udall "  who  was  one  of 
those  who"  tried  in  1553  to  make  the  Protestant  martyr,  Thomas  Mont- 
ford,  recant  (Nicolls,  Narrative  of  the  Reformation,  Camden  Society, 
p.  178),  was  Nicholas  Udall,  seems  wholly  unjustified. 


AUTHOR  AND  PLAY  31 

8,  1564  (Nicolls,  Progresses  of  Elizabeth,  3,  177),  there 
was  given  at  Cambridge  "an  English  play  called  Ezechias, 
made  by  Mr.  Udall,  and  handled  by  King's  College  men 
only. "  As  King's  College  was  founded  in  connection  with 
Eton,  it  is  a  fair  inference  that  the  play  was  one  written 
for  Eton,  and  was  at  this  time  repeated  at  Cambridge  by 
Etonians  who  had  taken  part  in  it  there. 

2.    THE    DATE    OF    THE    PLAY 

In  1818,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Briggs  printed  privately  an 
edition  of  thirty  copies  of  an  old  play,  Ralph  Royster 
Doyster,  one  of  a  collection  "lately  upon  sale  in  London." 
The  play  lacked  a  title-page,  and  was  without  a  colophon. 
The  author  was  unknown.  The  date  was  assumed  to  be 
in  or  about  1566,  from  an  entry  in  the  Stationers'  Regis- 
ter recording  that  Rauf  Ruyster  Duster  was  licensed  for 
printing  in  that  year.  Mr.  Briggs  presented  his  copy  to 
his  old  school,  Eton,  unaware  that  his  gift  was  the  work 
of  a  former  head  master. 

Tanner,  in  his  Bibliotheca,  1748,  mentioned  that 
Thomas  Wilson  in  his  Rule  of  Reason  used  an  illustra- 
tion of  ambiguity  from  "  some  comedy "  by  Nicholas 
Udall.  Collier,  in  his  notes  on  Dodsley's  Old  Plays, 
identified  the  passage  as  from  Ralph  Roister  Doister,  thus 
establishing  its  authorship.  He  probably  knew  of  Tanner's 
nbte,  but  characteristically  suppressed  the  fact  to  heighten 
the  merits  of  his  discovery ;  at  all  events,  the  edition  of 
Wilson's  work  which  he  cites,  the  first,  does  not  contain 
the  passage,  which  first  appeared  in  the  third  edition. 

It  is  conceded  that  the  play  was  intended  for  repre- 
sentation by  school-boys.  Starting  from  this  assumption, 
three  theories  have  been  urged  concerning  the  date  and 
circumstances  of  composition.1  It  was  at  first  taken  for 
granted  that  Udall  wrote  the  play  while  at  Eton,  that  is, 

l  Arber,  ed.  R.  R.  D.;  J.  W.  Hales.  "The  Date  of  the  First  English 
Comedy,"  Englische  Studien,  18,  408  :  Williams  andRobin,  ed.  R.  R.  D.; 
Fliigel,  in  criticism  of  Hales,  in  Gayley,  Representative  English  Come- 
dies, p.  98. 


32  INTRODUCTION 

between  1534-41.  In  1893,  Hales  contended  for  a  later 
date,  1552,  and  the  consequent  probability  that  Udall 
wrote  the  play  for  Westminster  School.  Williams  and 
Robin,  in  1901,  adopting  Hales's  reasoning  in  part,  ac- 
cepted the  date  1552,  but  conjectured  that  Udall  then 
wrote  the  play  either  for  the  court  (possibly  for  the  Child- 
ren of  the  Chapel  Royal),  or  for  Eton,  in  consequence  of 
his  taking  up  his  residence  as  Canon  of  Windsor.  Fliigel, 
in  1903,  assailed  the  more  important  arguments  advanced 
by  Hales,  believing  the  older  view,  that  the  play  was 
written  during  Udall's  head  mastership  of  Eton,  to  be 
more  probable. 

The  tendency  has  been  to  accept  Hales's  argiiment, 
though  it  will  not  bear  detailed  scrutiny,  and  to  disregard 
Fliigel's  criticism  of  it.  A  summary  of  Hales's  argument 
follows,  and  of  Flligers  criticisms,  with  the  addition  of 
further  evidence  in  support  of  FliigeFs  position  and  cover- 
ing points  which  he  omitted. 

1.  In  the  play,  a  letter  written  by  Ralph  to  Custance 
so  reads  that,  after  he  has  copied  it  from  a  scrivener's 
draft  (Act  3,  Sc.  5),  its  sense,  by  his  mispunctuation,  is 
completely  reversed  (Act  3,  Sc.  4).  This  letter  was  used 
as  an  example  of  ambiguity  by  Thomas  Wilson  in  the 
third  edition  of  his  Rule  of  Reason,  dated  January,  1553. 
Hales  argued  that  the  use  of  the  letter  in  the  third  edi- 
tion, not  the  first  and  second  of  1550-51,  1552,  proves 
the  comedy  to  have  been  written  between  the  dates  of  the 
second  and  third  editions,  namely,  in  1552,  or  else  Wil- 
son, who  had  been  a  pupil  of  Udall's  at  Eton  and  went  up 
to  Cambridge  in  the  year  Udall  lost  his  head  mastership, 
would  certainly  have  used  it  before. 

Fliigel  points  out  that  Wilson's  citation  of  the  letter  in 
1553  does  not  prove  the  play  to  have  been  written  in  1552, 
but  only  that  Wilson  did  not  have  the  letter  to  cite  before 
1553.  The  copy  he  used  might  have  been  in  manuscript, 
or  a  printed  and  now  lost  edition.  Fliigel  proceeds  to  the 
conclusion  that  "  most  probably  Wilson's  quotation  was 
made  from  an  early  edition  of  Roister  printed  in  1552." 

Fliigel's  answer  is  to  the  point,  except  that  his  assump- 


AUTHOR  AND  PLAY  33 

tion  of  an  early  edition  is  wholly  unnecessary.  For  we 
have  direct  evidence  that  Udall  was  in  personal  communi- 
cation with  Wilson  just  before  1553  (see  under  3).  There 
is  nothing  to  prevent  the  assumption  that  Wilson  then  ob- 
tained from  Udall  a  copy  of  the  play,  and  extracted  the  letter 
from  it,  perhaps  at  the  same  time  obtaining  the  material 
from  the  Prologue  which  he  used  in  the  Art  of  Rhetoric. 

2.  Bale,  in  his  1548  edition  of  the  Illustrium  Majoris 
Britannice   Scriptores,  said  nothing  of  Udall's  comedies. 
The  reference   to  his  comedies  does  not  appear  until  the 
1557  edition.   Flttgel  rejoins  that  Bale  does  not  give  a  com- 
plete   list  of  Udall's  works  in   either  edition  concerned. 
In  the  earlier  edition  he  says  nothing  of  Udall's  share  in 
the  coronation  pageant  of  Anne  Boleyn.   Bale  might  well 
never  have  heard  of  Udall's  school-comedy. 

3.  Wilson    published    his  Art  of  Rhetoric  in  1553. 
Udall  knew  of  it  and  contributed  commendatory  verses  to 
it.   In  the  Art  of  Rhetoric  appears  a  parallel  to  the  Pro- 
logue of  Udall's  play.   Wilson  was  probably  freshly  influ- 
enced by  Udall's  Prologue,  though   it  is  likely  the  con- 
ception was  a  favorite    one   with   Udall    and   had   been 
impressed  upon  Wilson  at  Eton. 

The  reply  to  this  point  is  plainly  that  the  play  need  not 
have  been  recently  written  for  Wilson  to  make  use  of  the 
Prologue.  The  very  fact  that  Udall  contributed  prefatory 
verses  to  Wilson's  work  shows  that  Udall  and  Wilson 
were  in  personal  communication  just  before  the  Art  of 
Rhetoric  was  published.  It  may  be  added,  though  not 
material  to  the  argument,  that  the  ideas  used  in  Udall's 
Prologue  and  by  Wilson  were  commonplaces. 

4.  "Certainly,"    Hales    says,    "about  the    year  1552 
Udall  was  in  high  repute  as  a  dramatist."   We  know  no- 
thing, Flligel  truly  replies,  of  Udall's  repute   as  a  drama- 
tist in  1552.   Hales  offers  no  evidence  except   Udall's  em- 
ployment by  Mary  to  arrange  dramatic  entertainments  in 
1554.   All  that  Mary's  warrant  of  that  date  tells  us  is  that 
Udall  had  shown  dialogues  and  interludes  before  her  "  at 
sundry  seasons  convenient  heretofore."   Moreover,  it  may 
be  added,  if  we  could  prove  the  high  repute  of  Udall  in 


34  INTRODUCTION 

1552,  the  fact  would  not  have  the  slightest  evidential 
value  respecting  the  dating  of  Ralph  Roister  Doister  in 
that  year. 

5.  Hales  continues,  "  Thus  there  is  much  to  justify  us 
in  assigning  '  the  first  English  Comedy  '  to  the  year  1552. 
But,  if  the  evidence  for  exactly  so  assigning  it  is  not  abso- 
lutely decisive,  yet  I  think  it  can  certainly   be  shown  to 
be  later  than  1546."   Heywood's  Proverbs  was  "printed 
in  1546,  '47,  '49."   Udall's  play  contains  many  proverbial 
expressions   which   appear  in   Heywood.   If   some   fifteen 
coincidences  can  be  found,  one  may  justly  conclude  that 
one  of  the  two  is  indebted  to  the  other. 

It  is  worth  while  to  go  into  this  point  at  somewhat 
greater  length  than  Flugel,  —  who  merely  says  quite  truly 
that  the  use  of  any  number  of  current  phrases  by  Heywood 
and  Udall  could  not  prove  dependence,  —  as  the  point  has 
been  cited  (by  Boas  in  the  Cambridge  History)  as  one  of 
Hales's  strongest  arguments.  The  examples  cited  by  Hales 
are  for  the  most  part  the  merest  commonplaces  —  "each 
finger  is  a  thumb,"  "in  dock,  out  nettle,"  "in  by 
the  week,"  "  mock  much  of  you,"  "  bees  in  his  head," 
"  chop-logic."  Others,  not  so  obviously  current,  can  readily 
be  proved  to  be  proverbial  sayings,  or  slang,  by  reference 
to  the  dictionaries.  Forexample,  the  curiousword  nicebdtnr 
was  used  by  Udall  himself  in  his  translation  of  the 
Apophthegms  of  Erasmus,  published  in  1542,  four  years 
before  the  date  assumed  by  Hales  himself  (the  date  is 
doubtful)  for  the  first  edition  of  Heywood. 

6.  In  Act  5,  Sc.  6,  1.  19,  Custance  jokingly  threatens 
Ralph  .that  she  will  put  him  up  into  the  Exchequer  as  a 
usurer,  that  is,  have  him  indicted,  because  he  will  lend  no 
blows  without  having  back  "  fifteen  for  one,  which  is  too 
much,  of  conscience."   Hales  brings  this  into  connection 
with  a  statute  of  Henry  VIII,  properly  1545,  not  1546, 
as  he  says,  which  repealed  old  laws  against  interest  and 
allowed  interest  to  the  amount  of  ten  per  cent  per  annum  ; 
also  further,  "what  perhaps  concerns  us  yet  more  closely," 
with  the  statute  of  1552,  which  repealed  the  former  stat- 
ute and  made  all  interest  illegal. 


AUTHOR  AND  PLAY  35 

Flilgel  corrected  Hales's  dating  of  the  earlier  statute,  and 
pointed  out  in  addition  that  distance's  joke  turns  not 
only  on  37  Henry  VIII,  c.  9,  but  also  e.  20,  which  speci- 
fied the  period  during  which  "  lucre  or  gain  "  (note  Cus- 
tance's  use  of  "gain,"  5,  6,  29)  should  run  as  one  year,  not 
for  a  longer  or  shorter  time.  For  Custance.says  — 

And  where  other  usurers  take  their  gains  yearly, 
This  man  is  angry  but  he  have  his  by  and  by,  — 

that  is,  at  once.  Moreover,  Hales  has  not  seen  the  conclu- 
sion to  which  the  train  of  evidence  which  he  has  started, 
leads.  The  passage  in  question,  or  the  whole  play,  must 
date  between  1545  and  1552,  that  is,  between  the  date  of 
the  statute  permitting  interest  at  ten  per  cent  and  the  date 
of  the. later  statute  repealing  this  permission  and  making 
all  interest  illegal.  After  the  repeal  of  the  law,  whenever 
it  occurred  in  1552,  Custance's  joke  would  be  without 
point. 

The  importance  of  this  conclusion,  as  weakening  Hales's 
argument  for  the  date  1552,  is  plain.  It  has  further  im- 
portant bearings  to  be  referred  to  below. 

7.  Frequent  comment,  Hales  says,  has  been  made  upon 
the  long  interval  between  the  first  English  comedy  and 
the  second.  "But  surely  now  that  long  interval  is  discre- 
dited." The  date  1552  brings  Ralph  Roister  Doister 
measurably  nearer  to  the  comedies  which  follow,  Misogonus, 
1560  or  1561 ,  Gammer  Gurton's  Needle,  1568. 

The  apparent  cogency  of  this  argument,  which  has  caused 
it  to  be  repeated  in  later  references  to  the  subject,  is  only 
superficial.  Udall's  successful  use  of  his  classic  models  and 
the  intrinsic  merits  of  his  play  are  no  better  explained  by 
assuming  a  date  1552  than  a  date  1541  or  earlier.  It  is  the 
first  play  of  its  kind  extant.  Its  successors  are  not  indebted 
to  it  or  like  it  in  kind.  Every  essential  condition  for  its 
composition  existed  when  Udall  went  to  Eton  as  head 
master.  What  happened  in  the  eleven  years  between 
Udall's  leaving  Eton  and  1552  that  would  make  the  writ- 
ing of  such  a  play  more  possible?  Above  all,  it  must  be 
remembered  that  the  history  of  literature,  notably  the 


36  INTRODUCTION 

drama,  is  full  of  examples  of  works  which  anticipate,  by 
a  number  of  years,  later  developments. 

8.  Mr.  Hales  next  argues  a  connection  of  the  play  with 
Westminster.   The   play   is  most  probably  a   school-play. 
If  so,  why  can  we  not  assume  that  it  was  written  not  for 
Eton  but  Westminster  ?  It  is  true  that  we  do  not  know 
that  Udall  was  master  in  1553,  but  he  was  in  1555,  and 
we  do  not  know  of  any  other  head  master  from  1553  on. 
"  If  what  has  been  said  as  to  the  date  of  Ralph  Roister 
Doister  and  also  as  to  the  destination  of  the  play  for  some 
school  is  judged  satisfactory,   these  considerations   might 
form  an  argument  in  favour  of  Udall's  appointment    in 
1553." 

This  reasoning,  if  analyzed  in  relation  to  what  Mr. 
Hales  really  desires  to  prove,  runs  in  a  circle.  The  date 
of  Udall's  appointment  is  not  the  real  objective.  Mr.  Hales 
says  in  effect  that  the  character  of  the  play  and  the  as- 
sumed date  of  it,  1552,  might  lend  support  to  the  assump- 
tion of  Udall's  appointment  in  1553,  and,  if  then  ap- 
pointed, the  play  was  written  for  Westminster.  But, 
though  the  reasoning  is  fallacious,  the  growing  tendency, 
because  of  Mr.  Hales's  article,  to  refer  to  the  play  offhand 
as  written  in  1552  for  Westminster  makes  it  advisable  to 
point  out  further  that  we  should  have  to  assume  that 
Udall,  in  the  portion  of  1552  before  the  repeal  of  the 
statute  concerning  interest,  wrote  a  play  for  Westminster, 
of  which  he  could  not  have  been  head  master  at  the  earli- 
est before  some  date  in  1553,  and  of  which  we  do  not 
know  that  he  was  head  master  before  1555. 

Yet  again  there  is  no  evidence  for  the  acting  of  Eng- 
lish plays  at  Westminster  before  Elizabeth's  reign,  and, 
indeed,  the  acting  of  Terence  in  Latin,  before  Elizabeth 
made  it  statutory  to  act  a  play  of  his  each  year,  depends 
only  upon  the  statement  that  Nowell  (1543-53)  intro- 
duced the  acting  of  Terence.1 

9.  In  further  reference  to  a  possible  connection  of  the 
play  with  Westminster,  Mr.  Hales  notes  that  the  scene  is 
laid  in  London.   It  has  been  suggested  to  him  by  a  famous 

i  J.  Sargeaunt,  Annals  of  Westminster,  49;  Athenaeum,  1903,  1,220. 


AUTHOR  AND  PLAY  37 

antiquary  that  possibly  the  oath  "  by  the  arms  of  Calais  " 
used  in  the  play  may  refer  to  some  inn  in  the  district  of 
Westminster,  as  Westminster  and  Calais  were  seats  of 
the  wool  staple. 

The  fact  that  the  scene  is  laid  in  London  is  no  proof 
of  connection  with  Westminster.  Considering  the  plot, 
where  else  could  the  scene  be  laid  ?  It  is  surely  a  far  cry 
to  adduce  the  curious  oath  "  by  the  arms  of  Calais  "  on 
the  strength  of  the  vaguest  surmises  concerning  its  origin. 
That  oath  was  used  long  before  by  Skelton,  from  whom 
Udall  borrowed  it.  Whatever  it  means,  we  may  feel  sure 
it  has  nothing  to  do  with  a  supposititious  inn  in  West- 
minster (the  name  of  which,  by  a  still  more  violent  sup- 
position, is  used  as  an  oath),  but  is  connected  in  some  way 
with  the  important  part  which  Calais  played  in  English 
history.  When  a  playwright  for  a  definite  purpose  local- 
izes a  play,  he  makes  his  localization  definite  and  apparent. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  there  is  not  a  single  reference  or  shred 
of  evidence  connecting  the  play  with  Westminster. 

The  net  result  of  Mr.  Hales's  argument  thus  proves, 
when  analyzed,  to  be  as  follows : — 

1.  The  latest  date  possible  for  the  play,  or  the  particu- 
lar passage  in  it  concerning  usury,  is  some  time  in  1552 
before  the  repeal  of  the  statute  concerning  interest. 

2.  There    is    also    a  presumption    that    the    play   was 
actually  composed  in  that  year,  afforded  by  the  fact  that 
Wilson's  third  edition,  1553,  of  the  Rule  of  Reason  cites 
Ralph's  letter,  while  the  second,  published  in  1552,  does 
not. 

3.  There  is  no  proof  for,  and   there  is  strong  proof  on 
account  of  the  dates  against,  the  composition  of  the  play 
for  Westminster. 

We  may  now  turn  to  the  views  of  Williams  and  Robin, 
who,  accepting  Hales's  date,  1552,  but  not  a  connection  of 
the  play  with  Westminster  (on  which  point  they  are  si- 
lent), suggest  that  the  play  was  written  as  a  result  of 
Udall's  taking  up  his  residence  at  Windsor  in  1552,  to  be 
given  either  at  Eton,  in  consequence  of  being  near  his  old 
school,  or  for  performance  before  the  court,  possibly  by 


38  7^  TR  OD  UCTION 

the  Children  of  the  Chapel  Royal.  Neither  possibility  is 
acceptable,  and  for  the  same  reason.  The  latter  supposi- 
tion would  be  attractive  if  we  could  feel  assured  that  the 
play  was,  indeed,  written  in  1552.  But  there  are  obvious 
difficulties  in  the  way.  Udall  was  presented  to  his  pre- 
bend in  November,  1551,  but  did  not  take  up  his  resi- 
dence till  some  time  in  1552.  This  we  know  by  the 
King's  letter  to  the  dean  and  chapter  of  the  chapel,  direct- 
ing payment  of  his  emoluments  despite  his  absence  from 
this  position  which  had  been  given  him.  Udall  dated  his 
preface  to  Gemini's  Anatomy  from  Windsor  in  July,  1552  ; 
this  may  indicate  that  he  was  then  in  residence,  but  not  nec- 
essarily, as  he  might  have  been  constructively  though  not 
actually  in  residence.  If  actually  in  residence,  he  could  not 
have  been  so  long  before  that  date,  or  the  matter  of  the  pay- 
ment of  his  emoluments  as  canon  for  the  period  of  his  ab- 
sence would  have  been  taken  up  earlier  than  September.  We 
know  from  the  King's  letter  that  he  was  absent  because  he 
was  engaged  in  preaching.  It  is,  therefore,  improbable  that 
he  \ras  writing  a  play  for  presentation  at  Windsor  or  Eton. 
He  must  plainly  have  been  preoccupied  by  matters  of  import- 
ance to  defer  entering  upon  his  benefice,  the  King's  gift, 
and  run  the  chance  of  losing  the  emoluments  of  his  posi- 
tion. It  is  hardly  likely  that  the  play  would  be  in  hand 
before  he  was  actually  in  residence,  and,  if  we  are  to  sup- 
pose that  the  play  was  written  after  he  took  up  residence, 
we  should  be  forced  to  suppose  it  written  between  this 
time  and  the  date  of  the  repeal  of  the  statute  concerning 
interest  in  that  year,  if  indeed  that  event  fell  later  in  the 
year. 

If  now  it  is  clear  that  it  is  extremely  improbable  that 
Udall  wrote  the  play  for  Westminster,  and  almost  as  im- 
probable that  he  wrote  it  for  the  Children  of  the  Chapel 
or  for  Eton  when  in  residence  at  Windsor,  it  remains  to 
review  freshly  the  evidence  for  his  having  written  it  at 
Eton  during  his  head  mastership,  1534-41. 

1.  Udall  was  early  concerned  with  dramatic  activities. 
He  took  part  in  the  pageant  at  Anne  Boleyn's  coronation. 
We  have  positive  evidence  that  plays  were  produced  un- 


AUTHOR  AND  PLAY  39 

der  his  direction  while  at  Eton,  for  he   presented  a  play 
before  Cromwell. 

2.  The  play  is  admittedly  a  school-play.   Udall  might, 
of  course,  at  any  time  have  written  a  play  for  school-pre- 
sentation, though  not  actually  at  the  time  a  schoolmaster ; 
but  is  such  a  supposition  to  be  entertained  for  a  moment  as 
compared  with  the  likelihood  that  the  eager  student  of  Ter- 
ence and  author  of  the  Flowers  for  Latin  Speakiny,  who 
had  already  taken  part  in    dramatic   composition,   would 
eagerly  seize  the  opportunity,  while  head  master  of  Eton, 
to  write  a  play  modeled  on  the  classics  he  had  so  assidu- 
ously studied  ? 

3.  In  direct  contrast  with  Westminster,  we   have  clear 
evidence  that  English  plays  were  early  acted  at  Eton.  To 
this  evidence  may  be  added  the  presumption  that  the  Eze- 
kias,  an  English  play  by  Udall,  acted  before  Elizabeth  in 
1564  wholly   by  King's  College  men,  was  a  play  written 
for  Eton  and  there  preserved  and  presented  from  time  to 
time. 

4.  Every  necessary  condition  for  the  production  of  an  Eng- 
lish play  modeled  on  the  ancients  was  in  existence.    Udall 
says  in  the  play  that   Plautus  and  Terence  now  bear  the 
bell  —  and  there  is  ample  evidence  of  a  lively  interest  in 
the  Latin  comedies  as  acting  plays  before  and  at  the  time 
of  his  mastership  at  Eton.  For  example,  a  reference  to  the 
playing  of  Plautus  appears  in  the  Utopia,  1516.   Plautus 
was  played  before  Henry  in  1520.   The  fact   has  not  hith- 
erto  been  brought  into  explicit  connection   with  Udall's 
play  that  the    Terens  in  English,  namely,  the  Andria, 
adapted  for  English  presentation  and  urging  the  claims  of 
English  to  recognition  as  well  as  Greek  and  Latin,   ap- 
peared a  year  or  two  before   Udall   went  to   Eton    and 
might   well  have   been  his   direct  encouragement    to  his 
experiment.    Is  it  possible  to  argue  that  a  date  between 
1534-41  is  unlikely  on  the  ground  of   the  source  of  his 
inspiration  ?    Or  on  the  ground  of  the  freedom  and  skill 
with  which  Udall  used  his  sources,  when   Heywood  was 
using  French  sources  with  similar  freedom  ?    Were  not, 
indeed,  the  conditions  just  such,  as  regards  the  general  in- 


40  INTRODUCTION 

terest  in  the  sources  from  which  the  play  is  drawn,  to 
make  the  writing  of  such  a  play  the  most  likely  thing 
possible  ? 

4.  The  evidence  for  a  date  1552.  which  excludes  Udall's 
writing  of  the  play  for  Westminster  while  head  master, 
and  renders  improbable  his  writing  it  for  production  there 
before  his  head  mastership,  does  not  exclude  its  composi- 
tion for  Eton.  Custance's  joke  regarding  permissible  in- 
terest, and  the  period  during  which  interest  must  run,  dates 
between  1546  and  some  time  in  1552.  This  reference  could 
perfectly  well  be  a  late  insertion.  It  is  not  at  all  necessary 
to  assume,  with  Flligel,  a  lost  edition  of  the  play,  for  such 
topical  allusions  are  often  inserted  when  a  play  is  freshened 
up  for  a  new  presentation.  The  subject  of  usury  was  one 
of  widespread  interest  both  in  a  practical  and  theological 
connection,  and  the  assumed  insertion  might  have  been 
made  for  some  presentation  at  Eton  or  elsewhere,  either 
when  the  statute  was  first  passed  or  at  a  later  date,  perhaps 
when  the  question  of  its  repeal  was  in  the  air.  We  have 
seen  that  the  year  1552  itself  is  an  unlikely  year,  because 
of  Udall's  preoccupations  in  that  year.  But  it  is  perfectly 
possible  that  the  play  may  have  been  given  at  the  court  at 
some  time  previous.  In  this  connection  the  warrant  dor- 
mer addressed  by  Mary  to  the  Master  of  the  Revels  in 
1554  is  of  interest.  It  reads  as  follows :  — 

"  Trusty  and  well  beloved  we  greet  you  well.  And  where- 
as our  well  beloved  Nicolas  Udall  hath  at  sundry  seasons 
convenient  heretofore  showed  and  mindeth  hereafter  to 
show,  his  diligence  in  setting  forth  of  Dialogues,  and  In- 
terludes before  us  for  our  regal  disport  and  recreation,  to 
the  intent  that  we  may  be  in  the  better  readiness  at  all 
time  when  it  shall  be  our  pleasure  to  call,  we  will  and 
command  you,  and  every  of  you,  that  at  all  and  every  such 
time  and  times,  so  oft  and  whensoever  he  shall  need,  and 
require  it,  for  showing  of  any  thing  before  us,  ye  deliver 
or  cause  to  be  delivered  to  the  said  Udall,  or  to  the  bringer 
hereof  in  his  name,  out  of  our  office  of  revels  such  ap- 
parel for  setting  forth  of  his  devices  before  us,  and  such  as 
may  be  seemly  to  be  shoued  in  our  royal  presence,  and 


AUTHOR  AND  PLAY  41 

the  same  to  be  restored,  and  redelivered  by  the  said  Udall 
into  your  hands  and  custody  again.  And  that  ye  fail  not 
thos  to  do  from  time  to  time  as  ye  tender  our  pleasure, 
till  ye  shall  receive  express  commandment  from  us  to  the 
contrary  hereof.  And  this  shall  be  your  sufficient  warrant 
in  this  behalf.  Given  under  our  signet  the  3rd.  day  of 
December  in  the  second  year  of  our  reign."  1 

The  point  which  is  of  moment  here  is  that  it  is  extremely 
unlikely  that  Mary  had  discovered  Udall's  dramatic 
ability  only  upon  her  accession  to  the  throne.  It  is  of 
course  not  possible  to  infer  from  the  reference  to  Udall's 
previous  activity  in  Mary's  service  that  he  had  been  em- 
ployed in  this  capacity  before  her  coming  to  the  throne  in 
1553.  But  it  is  also  a  fair  inference  that  his  dramatic  ac- 
tivities were  known  to  her  before  her  accession.  Consid- 
ering his  keen  interest  in  dramatic  activities,  considering 
also  her  interest  in  dramatic  entertainments  evidenced  by 
performances  before  her  prior  to  her  accession,  considering 
Udall's  close  connection  with  the  court  of  Edward,  and  with 
Mary  personally,  in  the  forties,  does  it  seem  unlikely  that, 
having  a  play  the  excellence  of  which  he  must  have  well 
known,  he  may  at  some  time  have  had  that  play  presented  at 
court,  as  he  could  readily  do,  and  may  at  that  time  (which 
includes  the  date  of  the  passing  of  the  statute)  have  in- 
serted the  reference  to  the  law  regarding  usury  in  Custance's 
joke  ?  The  only  argument  against  such  a  supposition  is  the 
fact  that  Bale  in  his  edition  of  1548  says  nothing  of  Udall's 
play,  as  one  might  suppose  that  he  might  do  if  it  had  been 
presented  at  court,  in  which  case  he  might  be  likely  to 
have  heard  of  it.  But  this  fact  has  really  no  evidential 
value  whatsoever,  for  Bale  might  never  have  heard  of  the 
play,  or  might  not  have  thought  of  it  when  treating  Udall, 
or  the  play  might  have  been  given  after  1548.  Were  Bale's 
omission  of  a  mention  of  it  an  argument  against  its 
existence  in  1548,  we  would  have  to  suppose  that  the 
reference  to  Udall's  comedias plures  in  the  edition  of  1557 

1  Given  in  full  by  Hales,  Enylische  Sludien,  18,  415.  It  was  first  printed 
by  A.  J.  Kempe,  Losely  MSSl  No.  31,  p.  63. 


42  INTRODUCTION 

proved  that  Udall  wrote  all  his  plays  between  1546  and 
1667,  which  would  be  contrary  to  the  actual  fact. 

The  supposition  made  above,  or  any  similar  supposition, 
is,  it  must  be  remembered,  not  material  to  the  argument, 
which  is  simply  that  the  play,  if  written  for  Eton,  was  not 
given  once  only,  and  that,  at  some  date  later  than  the 
original  writing,  Custance's  joke  was  inserted.  Jf  Udall's 
Ezekias  could  be  given  years  after  it  was  written  for 
Eton  (as  no  doubt  it  was),  we  may  feel  sure  Ralph 
Roister  Doister  was  given  at  intervals  after  its  first  per- 
formance. Nor  must  it  be  forgotten  that  the  play,  as  we 
have  it,  shows  obvious  marks  of  revamping  to  suit  current 
conditions.  The  phrase  "  keep  the  Queen's  peace  "  occurs 
in  Act  1,  Sc.  1, 1.  38,  and  a  prayer  for  the  "  Queen  "  occurs 
at  the  close.  These  afford  no  proof  for  date  of  composition, 
for  Mary  was  not  queen  in  1552,  Hales's  assumed  date, 
and  both  passages  could  be  readily  changed  by  substitution 
of  "  Queen  "  for  "  King  "  and  correction  of  a  few  pronouns. 
They  merely  illustrate  the  farnilar  process  of  revamping  a 
play  to  suit  present  conditions  —  in  this  case  to  make  the 
play  fit  Elizabeth's  reign. 

5.  The  use  made  by  Wilson  of  Ralph's  letter  as  an  ex- 
ample of  ambiguity,  which  Hales  uses  to  determine  a  date 
1552,  is  in  reality  a  strong  proof  in  favor  of  the  play's 
having  been  made  for  Eton  during  Udall's  head  master- 
ship. Wilson  left  Eton  the  year  Udall  lost  his  place.  We 
have  seen  that  the  year  1552  cannot  be  accepted  as  the 
year  of  composition.  The  conclusion  is  plain  that  Wilson 
did  not  include  the  letter  in  the  two  earlier  editions  because 
he  was  not  in  touch  with  his  old  teacher  and  did  not  have 
the  letter  to  quote.  He  came  into  touch  with  Udall  in 
1552,  as  proved  by  Udall's  commendatory  verses  to  the 
Art  of  Rhetoric,  published  in  1553,  obtained  the  letter, 
and  inserted  it. 

To  sum  up  the  argument  —  the  balance  of  evidence  is 
in  favor  of  the  presumption  that  Udall  wrote  the  play  for 
Eton  between  1534-^41,  and  that,  at  some  later  date,  the 
joke  of  Custance  concerning  usury  was  inserted  in  it. 


AUTHOR  AND  PLAY  43 


3.     THE    SOURCES    OF    THE    PLAY 

Udall,  in  the  Prologue  of  Ralph  Roister  Doister,  re- 
fers to  Plautus  and  Terence,  "  which  among  the  learned 
at  this  day  bears  the  bell."  No  one  familiar  with  the  two 
playwrights  could  for  a  moment  be  in  doubt  as  to  which 
would  be  the  more  likely  to  prompt  imitation,  and  there 
was  direct  evidence  of  TJdall's  intimate  acquaintance  with 
Terence  in  his  flowers  for  Latin  Speaking.  Yet  stu- 
dents of  Udall's  play  were  long  satisfied  with  regarding 
Ralph  Roister  Doister  as  modeled  directly  upon  the 
Miles  Gloriosus  of  Plautus.  Possible  indebtedness  to 
other  plays  was  suggested,  but  received  scant  considera- 
tion or  none  at  all.  No  doubt  the  later  importance  of 
the  Miles  Gloriosus  in  its  influence  upon  English  comedy 
here  served  to  prejudice  judgment. 

A  study  of  Udall's  play  in  relation  to  its  sources  made 
by  Mr.  Maulsby  *  has  gone  far  to  establish  a  more  correct 
view.  Admitting  that  there  is  justice  in  placing  emphasis 
upon  a  single  comedy  of  Plautus,  he  aimed  to  show  that, 
none  the  less,  too  much  stress  had  been  laid  upon  its  in- 
fluence, and  that  resemblances  "almost  if  not  equally 
striking,"  in  other  plays  of  both  Plautus  and  Terence,  had 
been  left  out  of  account. 

There  is,  in  the  first  place,  no  general  resemblance  in  plot 
between  Ralph  Roister  Doister  and  the  Miles  Gloriosus, 
or  any  other  play  of  either  Plautus  or  Terence.  What  is 
more,  the  parallelism  of  special  scenes  is  both  rare  and  re- 
mote. An  excellent  example  is  the  scene  in  \vhich  Ralph 
and  his  cohorts,  attacking  Custance's  house,  are  routed  by 
Custance  and  her  maids  —  declared  by  an  earlier  student 
of  the  play,  Faust,  to  be  "  a  copy,  neither  more  nor  less," 
of  Scene  1,  Act  5,  of  the  Miles  Gloriosus.  The  two 
scenes  are,  as  Maulsby  pointed  ("nvt,  "  essentially  diverse  "; 
a  scene  in  Rudens  (3,  5)  is  measurably  closer,  and  a  far 

1  "The  relation  between  Udall's  Roister  Doister  and  the  Comedies  of 
Plautus  and  Terence,"  Englische  Studien,  38,  251.  See  bis  review  of 
previous  literature  on  the  subject. 


44  INTRODUCTION 

truer  parallel,  as  had  been  noted  by  Habersang,  is  af- 
forded by  the  Eunuchus  of  Terence  (4,  7),  where  a  simi- 
lar braggart,  Thraso,  coming  to  carry  off  Pamphila,  is 
forced  to  flee. 

Next  may  be  noted  a  group  of  resemblances  and  differ- 
ences of  a  general  character,  rapidly  summarized  at  the 
close  of  Maulsby's  article,  which  fall  under  the  headings 
of  construction,  business,  scene,  and  style  ;  the  notes  on 
features  of  character  also  included  by  him  here  will  be 
taken  up  later.  Drinking,  quarreling,  abuse,  good-na- 
tured and  otherwise,  among  the  servants,  is  found  both  in 
Udall  and  in  the  classic  comedy ;  in  both  servants  are  re- 
buked and  threatened  by  their  masters.  Use  of  allusive 
names  for  characters  are  found  in  both ;  for  this,  we  may 
interject,  Udall  did  not,  of  course,  need  to  go  to  the  clas- 
sic comedy.  The  plot  of  Ralph  Roister  Doister  is  simple, 
while  the  Latin  plays  are  full  of  involved  intrigue.  Unity 
of  place  is  observed  by  Udall,  and  the  three  days  of  his 
comedy  suggest  influence  of  the  classic  unity  of  time. 
The  Proloyve  is  passably  like  those  of  the  classic  dramas. 
Thanks  upon  return  from  a  voyage  are  a  convention  in 
the  Latin  plays;  Suresby's  expression  of  relief  at  reach- 
ing land  (4,  1)  form  a  remote  parallel.  Giving  of  blows 
and  horse-play  occur  in  the  Latin  plays.  Music  and  danc- 
ing is  not  unknown.  The  feast  at  the  end  of  Ralph  Rois- 
ter Doister  was  perhaps  suggested  by  the  feasts  with  which 
Latin  plays  sometimes  closed.  The  scene  in  Plautus  and 
Terence  is  commonly  the  space  before  two  houses,  in 
Udall  it  is  the  space  before  one ;  this  is  due,  it  may  be 
added,  to  the  simplicity  of  Udall's  plot  —  the  Latin  play- 
wrights needed  two  for  the  convenient  carrying  on  of  the 
intrigues  of  which  their  plots  consisted.  As  regards  style, 
passing  by  what  Mr.  Maulsby  calls  "  the  interesting  in- 
quiry concerning  the  possible  effect  of  the  Latin  meters 
upon  the  English  comedy "  which  he  will  defer  till  a 
"  more  favorable  occasion,"  the  long  soliloquies  of  Udall 
make  the  same  appeal,  in  disguise,  as  the  confidential  ap- 
peals to  the  audience  in  the  Plautine  comedy.  A  remote 
parallel  for  Udall's  slight  use  of  dialect  is  found  in  the  il- 


AUTHOR  AND  PLAY  45 

literate  mistakes  of  the  clown  Stratilax  in  Plautus.  Udall 
and  Flautus  both  use  long-drawn-out  explanations,  jokes 
that  lose  their  point  by  repetition,  and  a  lengthening  of 
the  dialogue  at  expense  of  delaying  the  action. 

These  points,  summarized,  as  Mr.  Maulsby  summarizes 
them  rapidly,  in  a  single  paragraph,  will  certainly  convey 
a  false  impression  unless  the  reader  is  warned  to  delay 
judgment;  Mr.  Maulsby,  careful  though  he  is  to  say  that, 
"  numerous  as  they  are,"  they  "  do  not  mean  that  the 
Westminster  schoolmaster  was  lacking  in  a  sturdy  English 
nonconformity,"  by  that  very  statement  shows  that  he 
gives  them  too  much  weight.  The  list  includes  both  sim- 
ilarities and  differences.  The  similarities  are  of  little  signi- 
ficance when,  after  a  careful  study  of  the  whole  matter,  it 
is  perceived  that  Udall  is  distinguished  by  the  freedom, 
and  not  the  mechanical  dependence,  with  which  he  uses 
his  sources  and  exemplars.  The  details  of  the  incidental 
business,  such  as  drinking,  quarreling,  reproof  of  servants, 
horse-play,  singing,  and  dancing,  all  existed  in  English 
tradition,  and  are  used  in  a  manner  thoroughly  English 
and  not  like  the  Latin  play  ;  Udall  can  at  most  have  been 
encouraged  or  confirmed  in  his  use  of  them  by  their  use  in 
his  sources.  The  only  possibly  significant  features  are  these 
—  his  observance  of  the  unity  of  place,  though  one  may  sur- 
mise this  to  have  been  accidental ;  the  use  of  a  Prologue 
and  its  character  possibly  ;  and  the  feast  employed,  as 
sometimes  in  Latin  plays,  to  bring  the  play  to  a  close. 

Mr.  Maulsby's  assumption  that  the  meter  of  Ralph 
Roister  Doister  shows  influence  from  the  Latin  comedy 
may  be  briefly  touched  on  here.  This  assumption  receives 
the  most  explicit  statement  in  the  edition  of  Williams 
and  Robin,  in  which  it  is  stated  that  the  meter  "  is  an  at- 
tempt to  naturalize  the  comic  iambics  and  trochaics  of 
Plautus  and  Terence."  Mr.  Maulsby  was  prepared  to  con- 
sider this  as  a  possibility,  and  even  Professor  Flligel,  who 
apparently  recognizes  the  meter  as  traditionally  English, 
though  he  scans  it  incorrectly,  says  that,  on  the  whole, 
lines  of  six  accents  seem  to  prevail,  corresponding  to  the 
Middle  English  Alexandrine,  or  "  in  Udall's  case  perhaps 


46  INTRODUCTION 

rather  to  the  classical  senarius,  to  the  trimeter  of  the 
Roman  comedy  as  understood  by  Udall."  There  is  no 
space  here,  and  there  is  no  occasion,  to  go  into  the  matter 
in  detail.  The  verse  is  simply  four-stressed  tumbling  verse 
of  a  familiar  type  as  used  in  earlier  English  plays ;  no  other 
scansion  of  it  is  possible  without  impossible  wrenching  of 
accents. 

Specific  passages  of  dialogue  may  readily  be  discovered 
both  in  Plautus  and  Terence  which  evidently  served 
Udall  as  models.  To  those  pointed  out  by  his  predeces- 
sors Maulsby  has  added  others,  showing  that,  in  this  re- 
gard also,  as  in  the  case  of  the  material  for  situations  and 
scenes,  there  is  no  reason  for  assuming  a  particular  in- 
debtedness to  the  Miles  Gloriosus  of  Plautus.  But  it  is  pos- 
sible to  go  farther  than  this.  After  one  has  read  Plautus  and 
Terence  through,  with  the  intent  to  discover  features  of  in- 
debtedness of  this  kind,  one  becomes  convinced  that  Udall 
did  not  place  a  selected  scene  before  himself  and  then  set 
to  work  to  paraphrase  it,  substituting  his  own  words  and  al- 
lusions and  retaining  only  its  general  purpose  and  spirit, 
—  for  his  independence  is  such  that  it  is  a  puzzle  to  de- 
termine which  of  two  or  more  similar  scenes  is  more  prob- 
ably his  source,  —  but  that  his  indebtedness  is  rather  that 
of  a  student  of  the  Latin  comedy  who  knows  it  so  well 
that  he  does  not  rummage  out  particular  scenes  for  imita- 
tion, but  writes  freely  from  the  general  conception  of  ef- 
fective scenes  and  situations  floating  freely  in  his  mind.1 

We  pass  next  to  the  salient  fact  that  Udall  broadly 
modeled  the  two  basic  characters  of  his  play,  Ralph  and 
Merygreeke,  upon  typical  characters  in  the  Latin  Comedy. 
Ralph  is  an  adaptation  of  the  "  Miles  Gloriosus,"  so  called 
from  the  play  of  that  name  by  Plautus ;  a  notable  figure 
in  both  Plautus  and  Terence,  and  one  which,  in  a  much 
modified  form,  has  played  an  important  part  in  English 
comedy.2 

1  A  number  of  parallels  are  indicated  in  the  Notes ;  the  texts  of  cue  or 
two  are  given  in  illustration  of  Udall's  independence. 

2  He  first  appears  in  English  in  Thersites,  from  the  school-dialogue  of 
Bavisius  Textor.  Two  of  the  more  familiar  examples  of  adaptations  of 


AUTHOR  AND  PLAY  47 

The  "Miles  Gloriosus,"  or  "braggart  captain,"  is  a 
swashbuckler,  a  mass  of  vanity,  the  hero  of  many  imagin- 
ary feats  of  impossible  valor  invented  either  by  himself  or 
by  those  who  prey  upon  his  conceit,  but  really  an  arrant 
coward  whose  arrogance  at  once  deserts  him  most  ludi- 
crously when  confronted  with  the  slightest  resistance  or 
show  of  peril  ;  withal  amorous  and  eager  for  gallant  ad- 
ventures and  easily  led  to  believe  himself  the  admiration 
and  despair  of  all  women  who  behold  him,  a  trait  played 
upon,  of  course,  by  those  who  make  him  their  dupe.  Sim- 
ilarly, Udall's  character  is  a  fool,  a  braggart  and  yet  a 
coward,  a  fatuous  dupe  in  his  eagerness  to  play  the  gallant. 
But  the  differences  between  Ralph  and  the  part  he  plays 
and  the  portrayal  in  Latin  comedy  of  Pyrgopolinices  and 
other  braggart  captains  is  as  significant  as  it  is  marked. 
Udall  has  both  simplified  and  refined  the  character.  The 
cowardice  of  Ralph,  as  Maulsby  truly  says,  is  more  ob- 
vious and  more  comical.  The  use  made  of  his  gallantry, 
also,  is  devoid  of  offense,  and  much  more  effectively  comi- 
cal. 

Merygreeke  in  his  turn,  who,  in  Udall's  play,  avails 
himself  of  Ralph's  monstrous  conceit  to  his  own  advant- 
age and  involves  him  in  the  complications  which  form 
the  theme  of  the  play,  unquestionably  represents  the  typ- 
ical parasite  who  is  ubiquitous  in  Latin  comedy,  but  he 
combines  with  the  parasite  the  traits  of  the  clever,  schem- 
ing servant,  such  as  Palaestro  and  his  kind.  He  is,  to  quote 
Maulsby  again,  "  more  independent  and  more  aggressive," 
more  of  a  master  mind,  more  openly  contemptuous,  and 
wholly  free  in  the  lengths  he  allows  himself  to  go  in  de- 
rision and  horse-play,  being  always  quite  sure  of  his  auto- 
cratic control  of  his  dupe.  And  it  has  been  truly  observed 
that  his  enjoyment  of  fooling  Ralph  and  the  horse-play  to 
which  he  subjects  him  count  quite  as  much  with  Mery- 

the  character  are  Sir  Thopas  in  Lyly's  Endimion,  and  Cat  a  far  remove) 
Falstaff  in  Shakespeare.  For  studies  of  the  character  in  detail,  see 
J.  Thummel,  "  Der  Miles  Gloriosusbei  Shakespeare,"  Shakespeare  Jnhr- 
buch,  13;  and  Herman  Graf,  Der  Miles  Gloriosus  im  Englischen  Drama, 
Rostock,  1891. 


48  INTRODUCTION 

greeke  as  the  dinners  and  other  desirable  perquisites  he 
obtains  by  his-  flatteries.  But  just  as  Udall  avoided  the  re- 
pulsiveness  of  the  Laiin  character,  so  also  he  avoids  gross- 
ness  in  the  intrigue  involving  him  and  in  the  manner  of 
his  discomfiture ;  it  is  all,  after  all,  harmless  fooling  and 
good  fun.  Fliigel  says  admirably  that  Udall.  skillful  writer 
that  he  was,  has  carefully  avoided  the  "  danger  of  marring 
our  enjoyment  of  Merygreeke's  part  by  inserting  traits  of 
a  finer  or  grosser  brutality,"  and  it  is  certainly  better  that 
Ralph  should  be  left  to  the  last  quite  satisfied  with  him- 
self and  still  an  object  of  unbounded  amusement  to  the 
merry  company  about  him  as  they  go  off  to  dinner. 

To  return  to  Maulsby's  admirable  article,  it  is  in  no 
spirit  of  depreciation  that  it  must  be  pointed  out  that  we 
must  make  a  more  forcible  break  with  the  critical  tradi- 
tion which  assumes  a  large  degree  of  dependence  of  Udall 
upon  his  Latin  exemplars,  or  (as  it  is  too  easy  to  assume)  a 
dependence  of  a  mechanical  and  imitative  kind  calling 
merely  for  cleverness  in  selecting  and  patching  together 
material  not  essentially  original.  It  must  again  be  asserted 
that,  while  Maulsby  clearly  recognizes  and  affirms  that 
Udall  made  his  play  an  English  play,  there  is  danger  in 
laying  stress,  as  he  does,  upon  "  numerous  resemblances  "  ; 
the  resemblances  are  not  numerous.  The  ways  in  which 
Udall  was  influenced  are  few  ;  the  significant  fact  is  that, 
while  few,  they  are  of  the  greatest  importance.  The  first 
is  that  Udall  learned  from  the  Roman  comedy  to  make  a 
play  with  a  unified  and  regulated  action.  His  division  of 
his  play  into  acts  and  scenes  is  not  a  mere  formal  imita- 
tion of  his  models.  He  has  a  definite  idea  of  what  belongs 
to  each  act.  Taking  a  simple  thread  of  story,  he  distrib- 
utes the  events  it  includes  so  that  its  interest  cumulates 
in  the  fourth  act  and  reaches  an  appropriate  solution  in 
the  fifth.  It  was  no  lack  of  inventive  skill  that  made  him 
make  his  plot  simple,  or  discard  the  wretched  hole-and- 
corner  farcicalities  and  far-fetched  devices  of  the  Latin 
comedy.  He  has  ability  enough  of  his  own  to  diversify 
his  simple  theme  with  incidental  action,  the  fooling  of 
Merygreeke  with  Ralph,  the  episode  of  the  mock  funeral, 


AUTHOR  AND  PLAY  49 

the  chatter  and  quarreling  of  the  maids  and  varlets.  Para- 
doxically, the  very  fact  that  the  action  is  thin  in  the 
second  act  (though  reinforced  skillfully  by  incidental  epi- 
sodes) is  the  best  proof  that  he  knew  perfectly  well  what 
he  was  about.  He  would  not  put  into  that  act  what  neces- 
sarily belonged  in  the  next. 

The  second  indebtedness  of  importance  is  his  use  of  the 
two  typical  characters  of  the  boastful  captain  and  of  the 
combination  of  parasite  and  wily  servant.  His  independ- 
ence, freedom  from  any  necessity  for  servile  imitation,  in 
this  connection  has  already  been  indicated. 

The  fact  that  Udall  drew  suggestions  from  certain 
scenes,  borrowed  certain  passages,  is  of  course  of  import- 
ance, but  relatively  of  much  less  importance  —  it  is 
really  a  necessary  consequence  of  his  adaptation  of  two 
chief  characters  from  Latin  originals.  The  extent  of  his 
borrowings,  which  is  small,  and  the  substance  of  the  dia- 
logue borrowed,  are  of  no  significance,  as  concerns  the 
history  of  English  drama.  What  is  really  of  significance  is 
the  fact  that  his  indebtedness  for  special  scenes  is  most 
vague  and  remote,  so  freely  has  he  refashioned  the  ideas 
he  borrowed,  and  that  the  passages  of  dialogue  he  imitated 
are  entirely  made  over,  as  regards  words  and  allusions,  to 
a  fresh  and  individual  form. 

This  leads  to  the  consideration  of  the  specifically  Eng- 
lish elements  in  the  comedy.  On  the  one  hand,  the  comedy 
is,  in  a  word,  both  in  spirit  and  substance  thoroughly 
English ;  where  there  was  borrowing,  only  so  much  was 
borrowed  as  could  be  made  English.  If  Ralph  is  a  strongly 
accentuated  caricature,  just  as  the  various  boastful  captains 
are  in  the  Latin  comedy,  he  is  none  the  less  in  no  sense 
exotic,  a  figure  transferred  bodily  from  its  foreign  setting 
and  successful  because  of  intrinsic  absurdity ;  all  that 
would  have  been  exotic  in  Udall's  models  has  been  omitted 
or  changed  —  Ralph  was  recognizable  to  an  English  audi- 
ence as  a  delightful  exaggeration  of  a  type  in  real  life.  In- 
deed, largely  freed  as  he  is  of  the  grotesque  and  monstrous 
elements  of  the  Latin  character,  he  is  to  a  very  great  de- 
gree more  realistic  and  probable  without  any  loss  of  hu- 


50  INTRODUCTION 

morous  effectiveness,  and  therefore  artistically  superior  to 
his  artificial  and  highly  seasoned  original.  The  same  holds 
true  of  Merygreeke.  As  regards  the  incidental  business  of 
the  play,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  emphasize  again  the 
obvious  fact  that  much  of  it,  while  apparently  paralleled 
in  the  Latin  comedy,  is  really  traditional  in  England  and 
English  in  character,  —  horse-play,  joking  and  qiiarreling 
of  servants,  and  the  like  —  while  not  a  little  is  absolutely 
original  with  Udall  in  the  dramatic  use  he  makes  of  it. 
Possessed  of  a  natural  dramatic  instinct,  a  very  real  natu- 
ral skill  and  sense  of  what  was  useful  to  his  purpose, 
Udall  used  and  improved  upon  material  already  developed 
in  religious  play  and  farce.  His  delightful  picture  of  Cus- 
tance's  household,  of  her  management,  at  once  strict  and 
gracious  of  her  servants,  belongs  neither  to  English  tradi- 
tion nor  to  Latin  exemplars  ;  it  anticipates  in  a  remark- 
able way  realistic  comedy  in  its  later  artistic  development. 
A  word  must  be  added  touching  the  racy,  idiomatic 
English  of  the  play,  so  full  of  sparkle  and  fun  (and  so 
free  of  offense),  plainly  a  free  and  flexible  medium  for  the 
author's  expression  of  his  characters  and  action,  unstudied 
and  without  trace  of  constraint  and  awkwardness.  Surely, 
with  respect  to  the  abundant  and  most  natural  use  which 
Udall  makes  of  proverbs,  catch-words,  and  current  slang, 
a  word  of  protest  may  be  permitted  against  the  view  of 
one  of  Udall's  editors  that  "  Roister  Doister  is  largely  a 
cento,  though  the  patchwork  is  cleverly  disguised." l  This 
comment  is  the  more  strange  and  unwarranted  seeing  that 
a  large  part  of  the  parallels  on  which  it  is  based  are  drawn 
from  literature  later  than  Udall,  including  such  authors 
as  Lyly,  Massinger,  and  Shakespeare;  but,  apart  from 
these,  the  parallels  from  earlier  works  and  authors  are 
merely  cases  of  proverbs  and  other  current  phrases,  most 
of  them  familiar,  some  of  them,  indeed,  used  in  Middle 
English  literature.  The  notion  that  Udall  patched  to- 
gether phrases  and  allusions  from  his  predecessors  —  and, 

l  W.  H.  Williams,  Englisclie  Studien,  36,  179,  an  article  supplement- 
arj-  to  the  glossary  in  the  edition  by  Williams  aud  Robin  in  the  Temple 
Dramatists. 


AUTHOR  AND  PLAY  51 

so  it  would  seem,  his  successors  —  might  hardly  seem 
worthy  of  comment,  were  it  not  that  such  statements  are 
often  accepted  and  passed  on  without  scrutiny  of  their 
truth.  It  is  important  that  the  fact  should  not  be  obscured 
that  Udall  made  his  characters  talk  as  people  talked  in 
his  day  —  though  of  course  with  heightened  spirit,  point, 
and  pungency. 

So  far  we  may  go  in  recognizing  the  essentially  English 
character  of  the  play.  But  it  does  not  follow  English  tra- 
dition in  respect  to  structure,  the  use  of  conventional  types 
of  character,  and  the  like.  It  is  absurd  to  speak  of  "  me- 
dieval elements  "  in  Ralph  Roister  Doister  or  to  regard 
Merygreeke  as  a  Vice  in  a  thin  disguise.  Here  we  are  led 
to  the  question  of  the  priority  of  Roister  Doister  as  the 
first  "  regular  drama  "  in  English.  Assuming  the  play  to 
date  from  TJdall's  head  mastership  at  Eton,  it  is  still  pre- 
ceded by  Thersites  and  Calisto  and  Melibea,  but  here,  as 
in  the  case  of  the  Latin  plays  of  Grimald  and  Buchanan, 
other  criteria  than  date  give  it  preference.  Mr.  Schelling 
has  said  truly  x  that  if  by  the  term  "  regular  drama  "  we 
understand  a  matter  of  form  only,  including  the  division 
into  acts  and  scenes,  regularity  may  be  claimed  for  this 
play  and  several  successors,  but  must  be  denied  to  Ther- 
sites  and  Calisto  and  Melibea  ;  if  we  mean  by  regularity  the 
artistic  principle  set  free  and  disburdened  of  religious  in- 
tent, much  might  be  said  for  Thersites,  and  indeed  in 
Calisto  "  we  have  passed  out  of  the  atmosphere  of  both 
morality  and  interlude."  This  is  true,  but  Mr.  Schelling 
is  at  the  moment  interested  in  pointing  out  that  in  the 
general  development  progress  has  been  made  here  in  this 
play  and  there  in  that.  It  is  necessary  to  go  a  step  farther 
and  apply  in  conjunction  the  criteria  which  he  uses  sep- 
arately. In  considering  the  claims  of  Ralph  Roister 
Doister,  it  is  essential  to  note  not  merely  that  Udall  used 
the  formal  division  into  acts  and  scenes,  but  that  he  used 
that  division  with  a  clear  understanding  as  to  the  proper 
distribution  of  his  material.  It  is  essential  to  note  not 
merely  that  the  artistic  principle  is  set  free,  so  that  didac- 
i  Elizabethan  Drama,  i,  87  f. 


52  INTRODUCTION 

tic  purpose  no  longer  dictates  selection  of  content,  but  that 
the  artistic  principle  in  its  newly  won  freedom  does  not  in 
Udall's  play  run  to  extravagance  and  absurdity  as  in  Ther- 
sites,  but  is  working  consciously  and  conscientiously  on  its 
chosen  material  to  present  a  story  rationalized  and  restrained 
to  a  definite  moderation  and  decorum,  through  characters 
made  realistic  and  effectively  vitalized,  so  that  the  result  is 
measurably  within  the  bounds  of  artistic  fitness.  Regular- 
ity we  may  define  as  a  complex  artistic  unity  of  substance 
and  form  due  to  a  perception  of,  and  an  attainment  of, 
artistic  excellencies  that  are,  in  the  further  development 
of  the  drama,  to  justify  themselves  as  of  permanent 
worth.  Under  this  definition,  no  other  play  can  claim  pri- 
ority over  Udall's  —  even  if  we  were  not  forced  to  ex- 
clude Thersites  and  Calisto  and  Melibea  as  following 
closely  their  foreign  originals  while  Ralph  Roister  Dois- 
ter  is  demonstrably  original  and  English. 

But  when  one  considers  Udall  in  relation  to  his  sources 
and  evaluates  the  amount  of  his  indebtedness  justly,  when 
we  consider  what  he  took  and  what  he  did  not  take,  what 
he  did  and  what  he  did  not  choose  to  do,  when  we  come 
to  realize  the  measure  of  his  success,  we  arrive  at  a  much 
higher  estimate  of  his  powers  —  which  assuredly,  consid- 
ering his  historic  place,  had  in  them  a  touch  of  genius  — 
than  if  one  pays  him  tribute  merely  as  the  author  of  a 
play  to  be  considered  the  first  of  "  regular  "  English  plays. 


EALPH   ROISTER  DOISTER 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS 

RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER 

MATHEW  MERYGREEKE 

GAWYN  GOODLUCK,  affianced  to  Dame  distance 

TRISTRAM  TRUSTIE,  his  friend 

DOBINET  DOUGHTIE,  boy  to  Roister  Doister 

TOM  TRUPENIE,  servant  to  Dame  distance 

SYM  SURESBY,  servant  to  Goodluck 

SCRIVENER 

HARPAX 

DAME  CHRISTIAN  CUSTANCE,  a  widow 
MARGERIE  MUMBLECRUST,  her  nurse 

TIBET  TALKAPACE  t  . 

>  her  maidens 
ANNOT  ALYFACE    ) 

SCENE  :  London 


THE   PROLOGUE 

What  creature  is  in  health,  either  young  or  old, 
But  some  mirth  with  modesty  will  be  glad  to  use  ?  — 

As  we  in  this  interlude  shall  now  unfold, 
Wherein  all  scurrility  we  utterly  refuse, 
Avoiding  such  mirth  wherein  is  abuse,  5 

Knowing  nothing  more  commendable  for  a  man's  re- 
creation 

Than  mirth  which  is  used  in  an  honest  fashion. 

For  mirth  prolongeth  life,  and  causeth  health, 

Mirth  recreates  our  spirits  and  voideth  pensiveness, 

Mirth  increaseth  amity,  not  hindering  our  wealth,  10 
Mirth  is  to  be  used  both  of  more  and  less, 
Being  mixed  with  virtue  in  decent  comeliness, 

As  we  trust  no  good  nature  can  gainsay  the  same ; 

Which  mirth  we  intend  to  use,  avoiding  all  blame. 

The  wise  poets  long  time  heretofore  15 

Under  merry  comedies  secrets  did  declare, 

Wherein  was  contained  very  virtuous  lore, 
With  mysteries  and  forewarnings  very  rare. 
Such  to  write  neither  Plautus  nor  Terence  did  spare, 

Which  among  the  learned  at  this  day  bears  the  bell ; 

These,  with  such  other,  therein  did  excel.  21 

Our  comedy,  or  interlude,  which  we  intend  to  play 

Ts  named  Roister  Doister  indeed, 
Which  against  the  vainglorious  doth  inveigh, 


58  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER         [Acxus  I 

Whose  humour  the  roisting  sort  continually  doth 
feed.  25 

Thus  by  your  patience  we  intend  to  proceed 
In  this  our  interlude  by  God's  leave  and  grace; 
And  here  I  take  my  leave  for  a  certain  space. 

FINIS 


ACTUS  I,  SOENA  I 

MATHEW  MEKYGKEEKE.    He  entereth  singing. 

As  long  liveth  the  merry  man,  they  say, 
As  doth  the  sorry  man,  and  longer,  by  a  day. 
Yet  the  grasshopper,  for  all  his  summer  piping, 
Starveth  in  winter  with  hungry  griping. 
Therefore  another  said  saw  doth  men  advise,  5 

That  they  be  together  both  merry  and  wise. 
This  lesson  must  I  practise,  or  else  ere  long, 
With  me,  Mathew  Merygreeke,  it  will  be  wrong. 
Indeed  men  so  call  me,  for  by  Him  that  us  bought, 
Whatever  chance  betide,  I  can  take  no  thought,       10 
Yet  wisdom  would  that  I  did  myself  bethink 
Where  to  be  provided  this  day  of  meat  and  drink  — 
For  know  ye  that,  for  all  this  merry  note  of  mine, 
He  might  appose  me  now  that  should  ask  where  I  dine. 
My  living  lieth  here  and  there,  of  God's  grace,         15 
Sometime  with  this  good  man,  sometime  in  that  place  ; 
Sometime  Lewis  Loytrer  biddeth  me  come  near ; 
Somewhiles  Watkin  Waster  maketh  us  good  cheer , 
Sometime  Davy  Diceplayer,  when  he  hath  well  cast, 
Keepeth  revel  rout  as  long  as  it  will  last ;  20 

Sometime  Tom  Titivile  maketh  us  a  feast ; 
Sometime  with  Sir  Hugh  Pye  I  am  a  bidden  guest; 
Sometime  at  Nicol  Neverthrive's  I  get  a  sop ; 


SosaiA  I]        RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  59 

Sometime  I  am  feasted  with  Bryan  Blinkinsoppe  ; 

Sometime  I  hangonHankyn  Hoddydodie's  sleeve;  25 

But  this  day  on  Ralph  Roister  Doister's,  by  his  leave. 

For,  truly,  of  all  men  he  is  my  chief  banker 

Both  for  meat  and  money,  and  my  chief  shoot-anchor. 

For,  sooth  Roister  Doister  in  that  he  doth  say, 

And,  require  what  ye  will,  ye  shall  have  no  nay.      30 

But  now  of  Roister  Doister  somewhat  to  express, 

That  ye  may  esteem  him  after  his  worthiness, 

In  these  twenty  towns,  and  seek  them  throughout, 

Is  not  the  like  stock  whereon  to  graff  a  lout. 

All  the  day  long  is  he  facing  and  craking  35 

Of  his  great  acts  in  fighting  and  fray-making, 

But  when  Roister  Doister  is  put  to  his  proof, 

To  keep  the  Queen's  peace  is  more  for  his  behoof. 

If  any  woman  smile,  or  cast  on  him  an  eye, 

Up  is  he  to  the  hard  ears  in  love  by  and  by ;  40 

And  in  all  the  hot  haste  must  she  be  his  wife, 

Else  farewell  his  good  days,  and  farewell  his  life ; 

Master  Ralph  Roister  Doister  is  but  dead  and  gone 

Except  she  on  him  take  some  compassion. 

Then  chief  of  counsel  must  be  Mathew  Merygreeke,  45 

"  What  if  I  for  marriage  to  such  an  one  seek  ?  " 

Then  must  I  sooth  it,  whatever  it  is  — 

For  what  he  sayeth  or  doeth  cannot  be  amiss ; 

Hold  up  his  yea  and  nay,  be  his  nown  white  son, 

Praise  and  roose  him  well,  and  ye  have  his  heart  won,  50 

For  so  well  liketh  he  his  own  fond  fashions 

That  he  taketh  pride  of  false  commendations. 

But  such  sport  have  I  with  him  as  I  would  not  lese, 

Though  I  should  be   bound  to  live  with  bread  and 

cheese. 

For  exalt  him,  and  have  him  as  ye  lust  indeed  —     55 
Yea,  to  hold  his  finger  in  a  hole  for  a  need. 


60  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER         [ACTUS  I 

I  can  with  a  word  make  him  fain  or  loth, 

I  can  with  as  much  make  him  pleased  or  wroth, 

I  dan,  when  I  will,  make  him  "merry  atid  glad, 

I  can",  when  me  lust,_mfcke  him  Sorry  and~sad,          60 

I  can  set  hiin  in  hope  aiifl  eke  in  despair, 

I  can  make  him  speak  rough,  and  make  him  speak  fair. 

But  I  marvel  I  see  him  not  all  this  same  day ; 

I  will  seek  him  out.  —  But,  lo !  he  cometh  this  way. 

I  have  yond  espied  him  sadly  coming,  65 

And  in  love,  for  twenty  pound,  by  his  gloming ! 


ACTUS   I,  SOENA  II 

RAFE  ROISTEK  DOISTER.    MATHEW  MERYGREEKE. 

R.  Roister.  Come  death  when  thou  wilt,  I  am  weary 

of  my  life._        .. . 

M.  Mery.  I  told  you,  I,  we  should  woo  another  wife. 

[Aside. 

It.  Roister.  Why  did  God  make  me  such  a  goodly 

person  ? 
M.  Mery.  He  is  in  by  the  week,  we  shall  have  sport 

anon. 
R.  Roister.  And  where  is  my  trusty  friend,  Mathew 

Merygreeke  ?  5 

M.  Mery.  I  will  make  as  I  saw  him  not,  he  doth  me 

seek. 
R.  Roister.  I  have  him  espied  me  thinketh,  yond 

is  he. 

Ho!  Mathew  Merygreeke,  my  friend,  a  word  with  thee. 
M.  Mery.  I  will  not  hear  him,  but  make  as  I  had 

haste.  9 

Farewell  all  my  good  friends,  the  time  away  doth  waste, 
And  the  tide,  they  say,  tarrieth  for  no  man. 


]      RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  61 

R.  Roister.  Thou  must  with  thy  good  counsel  help 

me  if  thou  can. 
M.  Mery.  God  keep  thee,  worshipful  Master  Rois- 

ter  Doister, 

And  fare  well  thee,  lusty  Master  Roister  Doister. 
R.  Roister.  I  must  needs  speak  with  thee  a  word 
or  twain.  15 

M.  Mery.  Within  a  month  or  two  I  will  be  here 

again. 

Negligence  in  great  affairs,  ye  know,  may  mar  all. 
R.  Roister.  Attend  upon  me  now,  and  well  reward 

thee  I  shall. 
M.  Mery.  I  have  take  my  leave,  and  the  tide  is  well 

spent. 

R.  Roister.  I  die  except  thou  help,  I  pray  thee  be 
content.  20 

Do  thy  part  well  now,  and  ask  what  thou  wilt, 
For  without  thy  aid  my  matter  is  all  spilt. 

M.  Mery.  Then  to  serve  your  turn  I  will  some  pains 

take, 

And  let  all  mine  own  affairs  alone  for  your  sake. 

R.  Roister.  My  whole  hope  and  trust  resteth  only 

in  thee.  25 

M.  Mery.  Then  can  ye  not  do  amiss,  whatever  it  be. 

R.  Roister.  Gramercies,  Merygreeke,  most  bound 

to  thee  I  am. 
M.  Mery.  But  up  with  that  heart,  and  speak  out 

like  a  ram ! 

Ye  speak  like  a  capon  that  had  the  cough  now. 
Be  of  good  cheer,  anon  ye  shall  do  well  enow.  30 

R.  Roister.  Upon  thy  comfort,  I  will  all  things  well 

handle. 

M.  Mery.  So,  lo,  that  is  a  breast  to  blow  out  a 
candle ! 


62  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER        [Acxus  I 

But  what  is  this  great  matter,  I  would  fain  know? 
We  shall  find  remedy  therefore  I  trow. 
Do  ye  lack  money?  Ye  know  mine  old  offers ;          35 
Ye  have  always  a  key  to  my  purse  and  coffers. 

R.  Roister.  I  thank  thee !  had  ever  man  such  a 
friend  ! 

M.  Mery.  Ye  give  unto  me,  I  must  needs  to  you  lend. 

R.  Roister.  Nay,  I  have  money  plenty  all  things 
to  discharge. 

M.  Mery.  That  knew  I  right  well  when  I  made 
offer  so  large.  [Aside.     40 

[R.  Roister.]  But  it  is  no  such  matter. 

M.  Mery.  What  is  it  then  ? 

Are  ye  in  danger  of  debt  to  any  man  ? 
If  ye  be,  take  no  thought  nor  be  not  afraid. 
Let  them  hardly  take  thought  how  they  shall  be  paid. 

R.  Roister.  Tut,  I  owe  nought. 

M.  Mery.          What  then?  fear  ye  imprisonment? 

R.  Roister.  No.  46 

M.  Mery.  No,  I  wist  ye  offend  not,  so  to  be  shent. 
But  if  ye  had,  the  Tower  could  not  you  so  hold, 
But  to  break  out  at  all  times  ye  would  be  bold. 
What  is  it  —  hath  any  man  threatened  you  to  beat  ? 

R.  Roister.  What  is  he  that  durst  have  put  me  in 
that  heat  ?  50 

He  that  beateth  me,  by  His  arms,  shall  well  find, 
That  I  will  not  be  far  from  him  nor  run  behind. 

M.  Mery.  That  thing  know  all  men  ever  since  ye 

overthrew 

The  fellow  of  the  lion  which  Hercules  slew. 
But  what  is  it  then  ? 

R.  Roister.  Of  love  I  make  my  moan.       55 

M.  Mery.  "  Ah,  this  foolish-a  love,  wil't  ne'er  let  us 
alone?" 


SCJMCA  II]       RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  63 

But  because  ye  were  refused  the  last  day, 

Ye  said  ye  would  ne'er  more  be  entangled  that  way  — 

"  I  would  meddle  no  more,  since  I  find  all  so  unkind." 

R.  Roister.  Yea,  but  I  cannot  so  put  love  out  of 

my  mind.  60 

•/  ^*>r        ^4j  ij          "»»__^- 

M.  Mery.    But  is  your  love,  tell  me  first  in  any 

.      t,  wise, 

In  the  way  of  marriage,  or  of  merchandise? 
If  it  may  otherwise  than  lawful  be  found, 
Ye  get  none  of  my  help  for  a  hundred  pound. 

R.  Roister.  No,  by  my  troth,  I  would  have  her  to 

my  wife.  65 

M.  Mery.  Then  are^a  good  man,  and  God  save 

your  life !  

And  wliat  or  who  is  sEe,  with  whom  ye  are  in  love  ? 
R.  Roister.  A  woman  whom  I  know  not  by  what 

means  to  move. 
M.  Mery.  Who  is  it  ? 
R.  Roister.  A  woman  yond. 

M.  Mery.  What  is  her  name  ? 

R.  Roister.  Her  yonder. 
M.  Mery.  Whom? 

R.  Roister.  Mistress  —  ah  — 

M.  Mery.  Fie,  fie,  for  shame  ! 

Love  ye,  and  know  not  whom  —  but  "  her  yond,"  "  a 
woman  ?  "  71 

We  shall  then  get  you  a  wife,  I  cannot  tell  whan. 
R.  Roister.  The  fair  woman,  that  supped  with  us 

yesternight, 
And  I  heard  her  name  twice  or  thrice,  and  had  it 

right. 

M.  Mery.  Yea,  ye  may  see  ye  ne'er  take  me  to  good 
cheer  with  you,  —  75 

If  ye  had,  I  could  have  told  you  her  name  now. 


64  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER         [Acrus  I 

R.  Roister.  I  was  to  blame  indeed,  but  the  next 

time  perchance  — 
And  she  dwelleth  in  this  house. 

M.  Mery.  What,  Christian  Custance? 

It.  Roister.  Except  I  have  her  to  my  wife,  I  shall 

run  mad. 

M.  Mery.  Nay,  "  unwise  "  perhaps,  but  I  warrant 

you  for  "  mad."  80 

It.  Roister.  I  am  utterly  dead  unless  I  have  my 

desire. 

M.  Mery.  Where  be  the  bellows  that  blew  this  sud- 
den fire? 
R.  Roister.  I  hear  she  is  worth  a  thousand  pound 

and  more. 
M.  Mery.   Yea,  but  learn  this  one  lesson  of  me 

afore  — 

An  hundred  pound  of  marriage-money,  doubtless,    85 
Is  ever  thirty  pound  sterling,  or  somewhat  less ; 
So  that  her  thousand  pound,  if  she  be  thrifty, 
Is  much  near  about  two  hundred  and  fifty. 
Howbeit,  wooers  and  widows  are  never  poor. 

R.  Roister.   Is  she  a  widow  ?   I  love  her  better 
therefore.  90 

M.  Mery.  But  I  hear  she  hath  made  promise  to  an- 
other. 
R.  Roister.  He  shall  go  without  her,  and  he  were 

my  brother ! 

M.  Mery.  I  have  heard  say,  I  am  right  well  ad- 
vised, 

That  she  hath  to  Gawyn  Goodluck  promised. 
R.  Roister.  What  is  that  Gawyn  Goodluck  ? 
M.  Mery.  A  merchant-man. 

R.  Roister.  Shall  he  speed  afore  me  ?  Nay,  sir,  by 
sweet  Saint  Anne !  96 


SC.ENA  II]      RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  65 

Ah,  sir,  " '  Backare,'  quod  Mortimer  to  his  sow," 
I  will  have  her  mine  own  self  I  make  God  avow. 
For  I  tell  thee,  she  is  worth  a  thousand  pound. 

M.  Mery.  Yet  a  fitter  wife  for  your  maship  might 
be  found.  100 

Such  a  goodly  man  as  you  might  get  one  with  land, 
Besides  pounds  of  gold  a  thousand  and  a  thousand, 
And  a  thousand,  and  a  thousand,  and  a  thousand, 
And  so  to  the  sum  of  twenty  hundred  thousand. 
Your  most  goodly  personage  is  worthy  of  no  less.  105 
R.  Roister.  I  am  sorry  God  made  me  so  comely, 

doubtless, 

For  that  maketh  me  eachwhere  so  highly  favoured, 
And  all  women  on  me  so  enamoured. 

M.  Mery.  "  Enamoured,"  quod  you  ? — have  ye  spied 

out  that? 

Ah,  sir,  marry,  now  I  see  you  know  what  is  what.  110 
"Enamoured,"  ka?  marry,  sir,  say  that  again, 
But  I  thought  not  ye  had  marked  it  so  plain. 

R.  Roister.  Yes,  eachwhere  they  gaze  all  upon  me 

and  stare. 
M.  Mery.  Yea,  Malkyn,  I  warrant  you,  as  much  as 

they  dare. 

And  ye  will  not  believe  what  they  say  in  the  street, 
When  your  maship  passeth  by,  all  such  as  I  meet,  116 
That  sometimes  I  can  scarce  find  what  answer  to 

make. 

"  Who  is  this,"  saith  one,  "  Sir  Launcelot  du  Lake  ?  " 
"  Who  is  this  —  great  Guy  of  Warwick?"  saith  an- 
other. 

"  No,"  say  I,  "  it  is  the  thirteenth  Hercules'  brother." 
"  Who  is  this  —  noble  Hector  of   Troy,"  saith  the 
third.  121 

"  No,  but  of  the  same  nest,"  say  I,  "  it  is  a  bird." 


66  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER         [Aerus  I 

"Who  is  this  —  great  Goliah,  Sampson, or  Colbrand  ?" 
"  No,"  say  I,  "  but  it  is  a  brute  of  the  Alie  Land." 
"  Who    is    this  —  great    Alexander,    or    Charle    le 
Maigne  ?  "  125 

"No,  it  is  the  tenth  Worthy,"  say  I  to  them  again. — 
I  know  not  if  I  said  well. 

M.  Roister.  Yes,  for  so  I  am. 

M.  Mery.  Yea,  for  there  were  but  nine  Worthies 

before  ye  came. 

To  some  others,  the  third  Cato  I  do  you  calL 
And  so,  as  well  as  I  can,  I  answer  them  all.  130 

"  Sir,  I  pray  you,  what  lord  or  great  gentleman  is 

this?" 

"  Master  Ralph  Roister  Doister,  dame,"  say  I,  "  y  wis." 
"  O  Lord,"  saith  she  then,  "  what  a  goodly  man  it  is. 
Would  Christ  I  had  such  a  husband  as  he  is!  " 
"  O  Lord,"  say  some,  "  that  the  sight  of  his  face  we 
lack  !  "  135 

"  It  is  enough  for  you,"  say  I,  "  to  see  his  back. 
His  face  is  for  ladies  of  high  and  noble  parages, 
With  whom  he  hardly  'scapeth  great  marriages  "  — 
With  much  more  than  this,  and  much  otherwise. 
It.  Roister.  I  can  thee  thank  that  thou  canst  such 
answers  devise ;  140 

But  I  perceive  thou  dost  me  throughly  know. 

M.  Mery.  I  mark  your  manners  for  mine  own  learn- 
ing, I  trow, 

But  such  is  your  beauty,  and  such  are  your  acts, 
Such  is  your  personage,  and  such  are  your  facts, 
That  all  women,  fair  and  foul,  more  and  less,  145 

They  eye  you,  they  lub  you,  they  talk  of  you  doubt- 
less. 

Your  p[l]easant  look  maketh  them  all  merry; 
Ye  pass  not  by,  but  they  laugh  till  they  be  weary ; 


II]       RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  67 

Yea  and  money  could  I  have,  the  truth  to  tell, 
Of  many,  to  bring  you  that  way  where  they  dwell.  150 
R.  Roister.  Merygreeke,  for  this  thy  reporting  well 

of  me  — 
M.  Mery.  What  should  I  else,  sir?  It  is  my  duty, 

pardee. 
R.  Roister.  I  promise  thou  shalt  not  lack,  while  I 

have  a  groat. 
M.  Mery.  Faith,  sir,  and  I  ne'er  had  more  need  of 

a  new  coat. 

R.  Roister.  Thou  shalt  have  one  to-morrow,  and 

gold  for  to  spend.  155 

M.  Mery.  Then  I  trust  to  bring  the  day  to  a  good 

end ; 

For,  as  for  mine  own  part,  having  money  enow, 
I  could  live  only  with  the  remembrance  of  you. 
But  now  to  your  widow  whom  you  love  so  hot. 

R.  Roister.  By  Cock,  thou  sayest  truth !  I  had  al- 
most forgot.  160 
M.  Mery.  What  if  Christian  Custance  will  not  have 

you,  what? 
R.  Roister.  Have  me?  Yes,  I  warrant  you,  never 

doubt  of  that ; 
I  know  she  loveth  me,  but  she  dare  not  speak. 

M.  Mery.  Indeed,  meet  it  were  some  body  should 

it  break. 

R.  Roister.  She  looked  on  me  twenty  times  yester- 
night, 165 
And  laughed  so  — 

M.  Mery.  That  she  could  not  sit  upright. 

R.  Roister.  No,  faith,  could  she  not. 
M.  Mery.  No,  even  such  a  thing  I  cast. 

R.  Roister.  But  for  wooing,  thou  knowest,  women 
are  shamefast. 


68  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER         [Acrus  I 

But,  and  she  knew  my  mind,  I  know  she  would  be 

glad, 
And  think  it  the  best  chance  that  ever  she  had.      170 

M.  Mery.  To  her  then  like  a  man,  and  be  bold  forth 

to  start ! 
Wooers  never  speed  well  that  have  a  false  heart. 

It.  Roister.  What  may  I  best  do  ? 

M.  Mery.  Sir,  remain  ye  awhile  [here]. 

Ere  long  one  or  other  of  her  house  will  appear. 
Ye  know  my  mind. 

R.  Roister.  Yea,  now,  hardly,  let  me  alone  ! 

M.  Mery.  In  the  meantime,  sir,  if  you  please,  I 
will  home, —  176 

And  call  your  musicians,  for,  in  this  your  case, 
It  would  set  you  forth,  and  all  your  wooing  grace ; 
Ye  may  not  lack  your  instruments  to  play  and  sing. 

R.  Roister.  Thou  knowest  I  can  do  that. 

M.  Mery.  As  well  as  anything. 

Shall  I  go  call  your  folks,  that  ye  may  show  a  cast?  181 

R.  Roister.  Yea,  run,  I  beseech  thee,  in  all  pos- 
sible haste. 

M.  Mery.  I  go.  [Exeat. 

R.  Roister.  Yea,  for  I  love  singing  out  of  measure, 

It  comforteth  my  spirits  and  doth  me  great  pleasure. 

But  who  cometh  forth  yond  from  my  sweetheart  Cus- 

tance  ?  185 

My  matter  frameth  well,  this  is  a  lucky  chance. 

ACTUS   I,  SO3ENA  III 

MADGE  MUMBLECRUST,  spinning  on  the  dittaff.  TIBET  TALKAPACE, 
sewing.    ANNOT  ALYFACE,  knitting.    R.  ROISTER. 

M.  Mumble.   If  this  distaff  were  spun,  Margerie 
Mumblecrust  — 


SOENA  III]    RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  69 

Tib.  Talk.  Where  good  stale  ale  is,  will  drink  no 

water,  I  trust. 
M.  Mumble.  Dame  distance  hath  promised  us  good 

ale  and  white  bread. 
Tib.  Talk.  If  she  keep  not  promise,  I  will  beshrew 

her  head  : 

But  it  will  be  stark  night  before  I  shall  have  done.  5 
R.  Roister.  I  will  stand  here  awhile,  and  talk  with 

them  anon. 
I  hear  them  speak  of  Custance,  which  doth  my  heart 

good; 

To  hear  her  name  spoken  doth  even  comfort  my  blood. 
M.  Mumble.  Sit  down  to  your  work,  Tibet,  like  a 

good  girl. 

Tib.  Talk.  Nurse,  meddle  you  with  your  spindle 

and  your  whirl !  10 

No  haste  but,  good  Madge  Mumblecrust,  for  "  whip 

and  whur," 

The  old  proverb  doth  say,  "  never  made  good  fur." 
M.  Mumble.  Well,  ye  will  sit  down  to  your  work 

anon,  I  trust. 
Tib.  Talk.    "  Soft  fire  maketh  sweet  malt,"  good 

Madge  Mumblecrust. 

M.  Mumble.  And  sweet  malt  maketh  jolly  good  ale 
for  the  nones.  15 

Tib.  Talk.  Which  will  slide  down  the  lane  without 
any  bones.  [Cantet. 

"  Old  brown  bread  crusts  must  have  much  good  mum- 
bling, 
But   good   ale   down   your   throat    hath   good   easy 

tumbling." 
R.  Roister.  The  jolliest  wench  that  ere  I  heard,  little 

mouse ! 
May  I  not  rejoice  that  she  shall  dwell  in  my  house !  20 


'70  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER         [Acxus  I 

Tib.  Talk.  So,  sirrah,  now  this  gear  beginneth  for  to 

frame. 
M.  Mumble.  Thanks  to  God,  though  your  work  stand 

still,  your  tongue  is  not  lame. 
Tib.  Talk.  And  though  your  teeth  be  gone,  both  so 

sharp  and  so  fine, 

Yet  your  tongue  can  run  on  pattens  as  well  as  mine. 
M.  Mumble.  Ye  were  not  for  nought  named  Tib 

Talkapace.  25 

Tib.  Talk.  Doth  my  talk  grieve  you?  Alack,  God 

save  your  grace ! 
M.  Mumble.  I  hold  a  groat  ye  will  drink  anon  for 

this  gear.  [Enter  Annot.] 

Tib.  Talk.  And  I  will  pray  you  the  stripes  for  me 

to  bear. 
M.  Mumble.  I  hold  a  penny  ye  will  drink  without  a 

cup. 
Tib.  Talk.  Whereinsoe'er  ye  drink,  I  wot  ye  drink 

all  up.  30 

An.  Alyface.  By  Cock,  and  well  sewed,  my  good 

Tibet  Talkapace! 
Tib.  Talk.  And  e'en  as  well  knit,  my  nown  Annot 

Alyface. 
R.  Roister.  See  what  a  sort  she  keepeth  that  must 

be  my  wife! 

Shall  not  I,  when  I  have  her,  lead  a  merry  life? 
Tib.  Talk.  Welcome,  my  good  wench,  and  sit  here 

by  me  just.  35 

An.  Alyface.  And  how  doth  our  old  beldame  here, 

Madge  Mumblecrust? 
Tib.  Talk.  Chide,  and  find  faults,  and  threaten  to 

complain. 
An.  Alyface.  To  make  us  poor  girls  shent  to  her  is 

small  gain. 


III]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  71 

M.  Mumble.  I  did  neither  chide,  nor  complain,  nor 

threaten. 

R.  Roister.  It  would  grieve  my  heart  to  see  one  of 

them  beaten.  40 

M.  Mumble.  I  did  nothing  but  bid  her  work  and 

hold  her  peace. 
Tib.  Talk.  So  would  I,  if  you  could  your  clattering 

cease  — 

But  the  devil  cannot  make  old  trot  hold  her  tongue. 
An.  Alyface.  Let  all  these  matters  pass,  and  we 

three  sing  a  song, 

So  shall  we  pleasantly  both  the  time  beguile  now,    45 

And  eke  dispatch  all  our  works  ere  we  can  tell  how. 

Tib.  Talk.  I  shrew  them  that  say  nay,  and  that  shall 

not  be  I. 

M.  Mumble.  And  I  am  well  content. 
Tib.  Talk.  Sing  on  then,  by  and  by. 

R.  Roister.  And  I  will  not  away,  but  listen  to  their 

song, 

Yet  Merygreeke  and  my  folks  tarry  very  long.         50 
[Tib.,  An.,  and  Margerie  do  sing  here. 

Pipe,  merry  Annot!  etc. 
Trilla,  trilla,  trillarie. 

Work,  Tibet !  work,  Annot !  work,  Margerie ! 
Sew,  Tibet!  knit,  Annot!  spin,  Margerie! 
Let  us  see  who  shall  win  the  victory.  55 

Tib.  Talk.  This  sleeve  is  not  willing  to  be  sewed, 

I  trow. 
A  small  thing  might  make  me  all  in  the  ground  to  throw. 

[Then  they  sing  again. 

Pipe,  merry  Annot !  etc. 
Trilla,  trilla,  trillarie. 
What,  Tibet !  what,  Annot !  what,  Margerie !        60 


72  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER         [Acxus  I 

Ye  sleep,  but  we  do  not,  that  shall  we  try. 
Your  fingers  be  numbed,  our  work  will  not  lie. 

Tib.  Talk.  If  ye  do  so  again,  well  I  would  advise 

you  nay. 
In  good  sooth  one  stop  more,  and  I  make  holiday. 

[They  sing  the  third  time. 

Pipe,  merry  Annot !  etc.  65 

Trilla,  trilla,  trillarie. 
Now,  Tibet !  now,  Annot !  now,  Margerie ! 
Now  whippet  apace  for  the  maistry, 
But  it  will  not  be,  our  mouth  is  so  dry. 

Tib.  Talk.  Ah,  each  finger  is  a  thumb  to-day,  me- 
think ;  70 

I  care  not  to  let  all  alone,  choose  it  swim  or  sink. 

[They  sing  the  fourth  time. 

Pipe,  merry  Annot,  etc. 
Trilla,  trilla,  trillarie. 

When,  Tibet?  when,  Annot?  when,  Margerie? 
I  will  not,  I  cannot,  no  more  can  I.  75 

Then  give  we  all  over,  and  there  let  it  lie. 

[Let  her  cast  down  her  work. 

Tib.  Talk.  There  it  lieth ;  the  worst  is  but  a  cur- 
ried coat  — 
Tut,  I  am  used  thereto,  I  care  not  a  groat ! 

An.  Alyface.  Have  we  done  singing  since?  Then 

will  I  in  again. 
Here  I  found  you,  and  here  I  leave  both  twain.        80 

[Exeat. 

M.  Mumble.  And  I  will  not  be  long  after  —  Tib 

Talkapace ! 

Tib.  Talk.  What  is  the  matter  ? 
M.  Mumble.  Yond  stood  a  man  all  this  space 

And  hath  heard  all  that  ever  we  spake  together. 


RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  73 

Tib.   Talk.  Marry,  the  more  lout  he  for  his  coming 

hither, 

And  the  less  good  he  can  to  listen  maidens  talk.       85 
I  care  not,  and  I  go  bid  him  hence  for  to  walk ; 
It  were  well  done  to  know  what  he  maketh  herea- 
way. 
R.  Roister.  Now  might  I  speak  to  them,  if  I  wist 

what  to  say. 
M.  Mumble.  Nay,  we  will  go  both  off,  and  see  what 

he  is. 

R.  Roister.  One  that  hath  heard  all  your  talk  and 

singing,  i-wis.  90 

Tib.  Talk.  The  more  to  blame  you !  A  good  thrifty 

husband 
Would  elsewhere  have  had  some  better  matters  in 

hand. 
R.  Roister.  I  did  it  for  no  harm,  but  for  good  love 

I  bear 

To  your  dame  mistress  Custance,  I  did  your  talk  hear. 
And,  mistress  nurse,  I  will  kiss  you  for  acquaintance.  95 
M.  Mumble.  I  come  anon,  sir. 
Tib.   Talk.          Faith,  I  would  our  dame  Custance 
Saw  this  gear. 

M.  Mumble.  I  must  first  wipe  all  clean,  yea,  I  must. 
Tib.   Talk.  Ill  chieve  it,  doting  fool,  but  it  must 

be  cust. 
M.  Mumble.  God  yelde  you,  sir ;  chad  not  so  much, 

ichotte  not  when  — 

Ne'er   since  chwas  bore,  —  chwine  —  of  such  a  gay 

gentleman.  100 

R.  Roister.  I  will  kiss  you  too,  maiden,  for  the 

good  will  I  bear  you. 

Tib.    Talk.  No,  forsooth,  by  your  leave,  ye  shall 
not  kiss  me. 


74  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER         [Acmjs  I 

It.  Roister.  Yes,  be  not  afeard,  I  do  not  disdain 

you  a  whit. 
Tib.   Talk.  Why  should  I  fear  you  ?  I  have  not  so 

little  wit  — 
Ye  are  but  a  man  I  know  very  well. 

R.  Roister.  Why  then  ?  105 

Tib.   Talk.  Forsooth  for  I  will  not !  I  use  not  to 

kiss  men. 
R.  Roister.  I  would  fain  kiss  you  too,  good  maiden, 

if  I  might. 

Tib.   Talk.   What  should  that  need? 
R.  Roister.  But  to  honour  you  by  this  light. 

I  use  to  kiss  all  them  that  I  love,  to  God  I  vow. 
Tib.   Talk.  Yea,  sir  ?  —  I  pray  you,  when  did  ye 

last  kiss  your  cow?  110 

R.  Roister.  Ye  might  be  proud  to  kiss  me,  if  ye 

were  wise. 

Tib.   Talk.  What  promotion  were  therein  ? 
R.  Roister.  Nurse  is  not  so  nice. 

Tib.   Talk.  Well,  I  have  not  been  taught  to  kissing 

and  licking. 
R.  Roister.  Yet  I  thank  you,  mistress  nurse,  ye 

made  no  sticking. 
M.  Mumble.  I  will  not  stick  for  a  kiss  with  such 

a  man  as  you.  115 

Tib.  Talk.  They  that  lust  — !  I  will  again  to  my 

Sewing  now.  [Enter  Annot.] 

An.  All/face.  Tidings,  ho  !  tidings !  dame  Custance 

greeteth  you  well. 
R.  Roister.  Whom?  me? 
An.  Alyface.  You,  sir?  No,  sir!  I  do  no  such  tale 

tell. 

R.  Roister.  But  and  she  knew  me  here. 
An.  Alyface.  Tibet  Talkapace, 


SC/KNA  III]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  75 

Your  mistress  Custance  and  mine,  must  speak  with 

your  grace.  120 

Tib.   Talk.  With  me? 
An.  Alyface.  Ye  must  come  in  to  her,  out  of  all 

doubts. 
Tib.   Talk.  And  my  work  not  half  done?  A  mischief 

on  all  louts.  [Ex.  am.1 

R.  Roister.  Ah,  good  sweet  nurse ! 
M.  Mumble.  Ah,  good  sweet  gentleman  ! 

R.  Roister.  What? 
M.  Mumble.  Nay,  I  cannot  tell,  sir,  but  what  thing 

would  you  ? 
R.  Roister.  How  doth  sweet  Custance,  my  heart 

of  gold,  tell  me  how?  125 

M.  Mumble.  She  doth  very  well,  sir,  and  command 

me  to  you. 

R.  Roister.  To  me? 
M.  Mumble.         Yea,  to  you,  sir. 
R.  Roister.  To  me  ?  Nurse,  tell  me  plain, 

Tome? 

M.  Mumble.  Ye. 

R.  Roister.        That  word  maketh  me  alive  again. 

M.  Mumble.  She   command  me  to  one,  last  day, 

whoe'er  it  was. 
R.  Roister.  That  was  e'en  to  me  and  none  other, 

by  the  Mass.  130 

M.  Mumble.  I  cannot  tell  you  surely,  but  one  it  was. 
R.  Roister.  It  was  I  and  none  other;  this  cometh 

to  good  pass. 
I  promise  thee,  nurse,  I  favour  her. 

M.  Mumble.  E'en  so,  sir. 

R.  Roister.  Bid  her  sue  to  me  for  marriage. 
M.  Mumble.  E'en  so,  sir. 

1  Exeant  ambo,  let  both  go  out. 


76  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER         [Acxus  I 

R.  Roister.  And  surely  for  thy  sake  she  shall  speed. 
M.  Mumble.  E'en  so,  sir.      135 

R.  Roister.   I  shall  be  contented  to  take  her. 
M.  Mumble.  E'en  so,  sir. 

R.  Roister.  But  at  thy  request  and  for  thy  sake. 
M.  Mumble.  E'en  so,  sir. 

R .  Roister.  And  come  —  hark  in  thine  ear  what 
to  say. 

M.  Mumble.  E'en  so,  sir. 

[Here  let  him  tell  her  a  great  long  tale  in  her  ear. 


ACTUS  I,  SOENA  IV 

MATHEW  MEKTGKEKKK.  DOBINET  DOUGHTIE.  HARPAX.  [Musicians.] 
RALPH  ROISTER.    MARGERIE  MCMBLECROST. 

M.  Mery.  Come  on,  sirs,  apace,  and  quit  yourselves 

like  men, 
Your  pains  shall  be  rewarded. 

D.  Dough.  But  I  wot  not  when. 

M.  Mery.  Do  your  master  worship  as  ye  have  done 

in  time  past. 
D.  Dough.  Speak  to  them ;  of  mine  office  he  shall 

have  a  cast. 
M.  Mery.  Harpax,  look  that  thou  do  well  too,  and 

thy  fellow.  5 

Harpax.  I  warrant,  if  he  will  mine  example  fol- 
low. 
M.  Mery.  Curtsy,  whoresons,  duck  you,  and  crouch 

at  every  word. 
D.  Dough.  Yes,  whether  our  master  speak  earnest 

or  bord. 

M.  Mery.  For  this  lieth  upon  his  preferment  indeed. 
D.  Dough.  Oft  is  he  a  wooer,  but  never  doth  he 

speed.  * 


IV]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  77 

M.  Mery.  But  with  whom  is  he  now  so  sadly  round- 
ing yond  ? 
D.   Dough.   With   "JVb6«,  nicebecetur,  miserere" 

fond. 
M.  Mery.  God  be  at  your  wedding,  be  ye  sped 

already  ? 

I  did  not  suppose  that  your  love  was  so  greedy. 
I  perceive  now  ye  have  chose  of  devotion,  15 

And  joy  have  ye,  lady,  of  your  promotion. 

It.  Roister.  Tush,  fool,  thou  art  deceived,  this  is 

not  she. 
M.  Mery.  Well,  mock  much  of  her,  and  keep  her 

well,  I  'vise  ye. 

I  will  take  no  charge  of  such  a  fair  piece'  keeping. 
M.  Mumble.  What  aileth  this  fellow?  he  driveth 
me  to  weeping.  20 

M.  Mery.  What,  weep  on  the  wedding  day?  Be 

merry,  woman, 

Though  I  say  it,  ye  have  chose  a  good  gentleman. 
R.  Roister.  Cocks  nouns,  what  meanest  thou,  man  ? 

tut-a-whistle  ! 
M.  Mery.  Ah,  sir,  be  good  to  her ;  she  is  but  a 

gristle. 
Ah,  sweet  lamb  and  coney ! 

R.  Roister.  Tut,  thou  art  deceived.  25 

M.  Mery.  Weep  no  more,  lady,  ye  shall  be  well 

received. 
Up  with  some  merry  noise,  sirs,  to  bring  home  the 

bride. 
R.  Roister.  Gogs  arms,  knave,  art  thou  mad?  I  tell 

thee  thou  art  wide. 
M.  Mery.  Then  ye  intend  by  night  to  have  her 

home  brought. 
R.  Roister.  I  tell  thee  no. 


78  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER         [Acxus  1 

M.  Mery.  How  then  ? 

R.  Roister.  'Tis  neither  meant  ne  thought.  30 

M.  Mery.  What  shall  we  then  do  with  her? 
R.  Roister.  Ah,  foolish  harebrain, 

This  is  not  she. 

M.  Mery.         No  is  !  Why  then,  unsaid  again  ! 
And  what  young  girl  is  this  with  your  inaship  so  bold  ? 
R.  Roister.  A  girl  ? 
M.  Mery.  Yea  —  I  dare  say,  scarce  yet  three  score 

year  old. 
R.  Roister.  This  same  is  the  fair  widow's  nurse,  of 

whom  ye  wot.  35 

M.  Mery.  Is  she  but  a  nurse  of  a  house  ?  Hence 

home,  old  trot, 
Hence  at  once ! 

R.  Roister.     No,  no. 

M.  Mery.  What,  an  please  your  maship, 

A  nurse  talk  so  homely  with  one  of  your  worship  ? 
R.  Roister.  I  will  have  it  so :  it  is  my  pleasure  and 

will. 
M.  Mery.  Then  I  am  content.  Nurse,  come  again, 

tarry  still.  40 

R.  Roister.  What,  she  will  help  forward  this  my 

suit  for  her  part. 

M.  Mery.  Then  is  't  mine  own  pigsney,  and  bless- 
ing on  my  heart. 

R.  Roister.  This  is  our  best  friend,  man. 
M.  Mery.  Then  teach  her  what  to  say. 

M.  Mumble.  I  am  taught  already. 
M.  Mery.  Then  go,  make  no  delay. 

R.  Roister.  Yet  hark,  one  word  in  thine  ear. 
M.  Mery.  Back,  sirs,  from  his  tail.  45 

R.  Roister.  Back,  villains,  will  ye  be  privy  of  my 

counsel  ? 


SCJSNA  IV]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  79 

M.  Mery.  Back,  sirs,  so  :  I  told  you  afore  ye  would 
be  shent. 

It.  Roister.  She  shall  have  the  first  day  a  whole 
peck  of  argent. 

M.  Mumble.  A  peck !  Nomine  Patris,  have  ye  so 
much  spare? 

R.  Roister.  Yea,  and  a  cart-load  thereto,  or  else 
were  it  bare,  50 

Besides  other  moveables,  household  stuff,  and  land. 

M.  Mumble.  Have  ye  lands  too  ? 

R.  Roister.  An  hundred  marks. 

M.  Mery.  Yea,  a  thousand. 

M.  Mumble.  And  have  ye  cattle  too?  and  sheep 
too? 

R.  Roister.  Yea,  a  few. 

M.  Mery.  He  is  ashamed  the  number  of  them  to 

shew. 

E'en    round    about    him,    as   many   thousand    sheep 
goes,  55 

As  he  and  thou,  and  I  too,  have  fingers  and  toes. 

M.  Mumble.  And  how  many  years  old  be  you? 

R.  Roister.  Forty  at  least. 

M.  Mery.  Yea,  and  thrice  forty  to  them. 

R.  Roister.  Nay,  now  thou  dost  jest. 

I  am  not  so  old ;  thou  misreckonest  my  years. 

M.  Mery.  I  know  that ;  but  my  mind  was  on  bul- 
locks and  steers.  60 

M.  Mumble.  And  what  shall  I  show  her  your  mas- 
tership's name  is? 

R.  Roister.  Nay,  she  shall  make  suit  ere  she  know 
that,  i-wis. 

M.  Mumble.  Yet  let  me  somewhat  know. 

M.  Mery.  This  is  he,  understand, 

That  killed  the  Blue  Spider  in  Blanchepowder  land. 


80  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER         [Acrrus  I 

M.  Mumble-  Yea,  Jesus,  William  zee  law,  did  he 

zo,  law !  65 

M.  Mery.  Yea,  and  the  last  elephant  that  ever  he 

saw, 

As  the  beast  passed  by,  he  start  out  of  a  busk, 
And  e'en  with  pure  strength  of  arms  plucked  out  his 

great  tusk. 
M.  Mumble.  Jesus,  nomine  Patris,  what  a  thing 

was  that ! 

R.  Roister.  Yea,  but,  Merygreeke,  one  thing  thou 
hast  forgot.  70 

M.Mery.  What? 

R.  Roister.       Of  th'  other  elephant. 
M.  Mery.  Oh,  him  that  fled  away. 

R.  Roister.  Yea. 

M.  Mery.    Yea,  he  knew  that   his  match   was  in 

place  that  day. 

Tut,  he  bet  the  King  of  Crickets  on  Christmas  day, 
That  he  crept  in  a  hole,  and  not  a  word  to  say. 
M.  Mumble.  A  sore  man,  by  zembletee. 
M.  Mery.  Why,  he  wrung  a  club 

Once  in  a  fray  out  of  the  hand  of  Belzebub.  76 

R.  Roister.  And  how  when  Mumfision  —  ? 
M.  Mery.  Oh,  your  custreling 

Bore  the  lantern  a-field  so  before  the  gosling  — 
Nay,  that  is  too  long  a  matter  now  to  be  told. 
Never  ask  his  name,  nurse,  I  warrant  thee,  be  bold.  80 
He  conquered  in  one  day  from  Rome  to  Naples, 
And  won  towns,  nurse,  as  fast  as  thou  canst  make 

apples. 
M.  Mumble.  O  Lord,  my  heart  quaketh  for  fear : 

he  is  too  sore. 

R.  Roister.   Thou  makest  her  too  much  afeard, 
Merygreeke,  no  more. 


SCXENA  IV]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  81 

This  tale  would  fear  my  sweetheart  distance  right 

evil.  85 

M.  Mery.  Nay,  let  her  take  him,  nurse,  and  fear 

not  the  devil. 
But   thus  is  our  song   dashed.    Sirs,  ye  may  home 

again. 
R.  Roister.  No,  shall  they  not.   I  charge  you  all 

here  to  remain  — 
The    villain    slaves,   a   whole    day  ere    they  can    be 

found. 

M.  Mery.    Couch  on  your  marybones,  whoresons, 
down  to  the  ground.  90 

Was  it  meet  he  should  tarry  so  long  in  one  place 
Without  harmony  of  music,  or  some  solace? 
Whoso  hath  such  bees  as  your  master  in  his  head 
Had  need  to  have  his  spirits  with  music  to  be  fed. 
By  your  mastership's  licence  — 

R.  Roister.  What  is  that  ?  a  mote  ?   95 

M.  Mery.  No,  it  was  a  fowl's  feather  had  light  on 

your  coat. 
R.  Roister.    I  was  nigh  no  feathers  since  I  came 

from  my  bed. 
M.  Mery.  No,  sir,  it  was  a  hair  that  was  fall  from 

your  head. 

R.  Roister.  My  men  come  when  it  please  them. 
M.  Mery.  By  your  leave  — 

R.  Roister.  What  is  that  ? 

M.  Mery.  Your  gown  was  foul    spotted   with  the 
foot  of  a  gnat.  100 

R .  Roister.  Their  master  to  offend  they  are  nothing 
af eard  — 

What  now  ? 

M.  Mery.    A   lousy  hair  from   your  mastership's 
beard. 


82  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER         [ACTUS  I 

Omnes  famuli}-  And  sir,  for  nurse's  sake,  pardon 

this  one  offence. 

We  shall  not  after  this  show  the  like  negligence. 
R.  Roister.    I  pardon  you  this  once,  and  come, 
sing  ne'er  the  worse.  105 

M.  Mery.  How  like  you  the  goodness  of  this  gen- 
tleman, nurse  ? 
M.  Mumble.  God  save  his  mastership  that  so  can 

his  men  forgive ! 

And  I  will  hear  them  sing  ere  I  go,  by  his  leave. 
R.  Roister.  Marry,  and  thou  shalt,  wench.  Come, 

we  two  will  dance ! 

M.  Mumble.  Nay,  I  will  by  mine  own  self  foot  the 
song,  perchance.  110 

R.  Roister.  Go  to  it,  sirs,  lustily. 
M.  Mumble.  Pipe  up  a  merry  note, 

Let  me  hear  it  played,  I  will  foot  it  for  a  groat. 

[Content. 

R.  Roister.  Now,  nurse,  take  this  same  letter  here 

to  thy  mistress, 
And  as  my  trust  is  in  thee,  ply  my  business. 

M.  Mumble.  It  shall  be  done. 

M.  Mery.  Who  made  it  ? 

R.  Roister.  I  wrote  it  each  whit.  115 

M.  Mery.  Then  needs  it  no  mending. 

R.  Roister.  No,  no. 

M.  Mery.  No,  I  know  your  wit. 

I  warrant  it  well. 

M.  Mumble.  It  shall  be  delivered. 

But,  if  ye  speed,  shall  I  be  considered  ? 

M.  Mery.  Whough  !  dost  thou  doubt  of  that  ? 

Madge.  What  shall  I  have  ? 

1  All  the  serving-men. 


SCJEXA  V]       RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  83 

M.  Mery.  An  hundred  times  more  than  thou  canst 

devise  to  crave.  120 

M.  Mumble.  Shall  I  have  some  new  gear  ?  —  for 

my  old  is  all  spent. 
M.  Mery.   The  worst  kitchen   wench  shall  go  in 

ladies'  raiment. 
M.  Mumble.  Yea  ? 
M.  Mery.  And  the  worst  drudge  in  the  house  shall 

go  better 
Than  your  mistress  doth  now. 

Mar.  Then  I  trudge  with  your  letter. 

R.  Roister.  Now,  may  I  repose  me  —  Custance  is 

mine  own.  125 

Let  us  sing  and  play  homeward  that  it  may  be  known. 

M.  Mery.  But  are  you  sure  that  your  letter  is  well 

enough  ? 

R.  Roister.  I  wrote  it  myself. 

M.  Mery.  Then  sing  we  to  dinner. 

[Here  they  sing,  and  go  out  singing. 

ACTUS   I,   SOENA  V 

CHRISTIAN  CUSTANCE.    MABGEKIE  MUMBLECRUST. 

C.  Custance.  Who  took  thee  this  letter,  Margerie 

Mumblecrust  ? 

M.  Mumble.  A  lusty  gay  bachelor  took  it  me  of  trust, 
And  if  ye  seek  to  him  he  will  love  your  doing. 

C.  Custance.    Yea,   but   where   learned    he    that 

manner  of  wooing? 

M.  Mumble.  If  to  sue  to  him,  you  will  any  pains  take, 

He  will  have  you  to  his  wife,  he  saith,  for  my  sake.  6 

C.  Custance.  Some  wise  gentleman,  belike.   I  am 

bespoken  ; 
And  I  thought  verily  this  had  been  some  token 


84  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER       [Acxus  II 

From  my  dear  spouse,  Gawin  Goodluck,  whom  when 

him  please, 

God  luckily  send  home  to  both  our  hearts'  ease.       10 
M.  Mumble.  A  joyly  man  it  is,  I  wot  well  by  report, 
And  would  have  you  to  him  for  marriage  resort. 
Best  open  the  writing,  and  see  what  it  doth  speak. 
C.  Custance.  At  this  time,  nurse,  I  will  neither 

read  ne  break. 

M.  Mumble.  He  promised  to  give  you  a  whole  peck 

of  gold.  15 

C.  Custance.  Perchance,  lack  of  a  pint  when  it 

shall  be  all  told. 
M.  Mumble.  I  would  take  a  gay  rich  husband,  and 

I  were  you. 
C.  Custance.  In  good  sooth,  Madge,  e'en  so  would 

I,  if  I  were  thou. 

But  no  more  of  this  fond  talk  now  —  let  us  go  in, 
And  see  thou  no  more  move  me  folly  to  begin.         20 
Nor  bring  me  no  more  letters  for  no  man's  pleasure, 
But  thou  know  from  whom. 

M.  Mumble.  I  warrant  ye  shall  be  sure. 


ACTUS   II,   SOENA  I 

DOBINET    DOOGHTIE. 

D.  Dough.    Where  is  the  house  I  go  to,  before  or 

behind  ? 

I  know  not  where  nor  when  nor  how  I  shall  it  find. 
If  I  had  ten  men's  bodies  and  legs  and  strength, 
This  trotting  that  I  have  must  needs  lame  me  at  length. 
And  now  that  my  master  is  new  set  on  wooing,          5 
I  trust  there  shall  none  of  us  find  lack  of  doing. 
Two  pair  of  shoes  a  day  will  now  be  too  little 
To  serve  me,  I  must  trot  to  and  fro  so  inickle. 


I]         RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  85 

"  Go  bear  me  this  token,"  "  carry  me  this  letter," 
Now  this  is  the  best  way,  now  that  way  is  better.     10 
Up  before  day,  sirs,  I  charge  you,  an  hour  or  twain, 
Trudge,  "  do  me  this  message,  and  bring  word  quick 

again." 

If  one  miss  but  a  minute,  then,  "  His  arms  and  wounds, 
I  would  not  have  slacked  for  ten  thousand  pounds ! 
Nay,  see,  I  beseech  you,  if  my  most  trusty  page        15 
Go  not  now  about  to  hinder  my  marriage !  " 
So  fervent  hot  wooing,  and  so  far  from  wiving, 
I  trow,  never  was  any  creature  living. 
With  every  woman  is  he  in  some  love's  pang, 
Then  up  to  our  lute  at  midnight,  twangledom  twang,  20 
Then  twang  with  our  sonnets,  and  twang  with  our 

dumps, 

And  heigho  from  our  heart,  as  heavy  as  lead  lumps ; 
Then  to  our  recorder  with  toodleloodle  poop, 
As  the  howlet  out  of  an  ivy  bush  should  hoop. 
Anon    to  our   gittern,    thrumpledum,    thrumpledum 
thrum,  25 

Thrumpledum,  thrumpledum,  thrumpledum,  thrumple- 
dum, thrum. 

Of  songs  and  ballads  also  he  is  a  maker, 
And  that  can  he  as  finely  do  as  Jack  Raker ; 
Yea,  and  extempore  will  he  ditties  compose, 
Foolish  Marsyas  ne'er  made  the  like,  I  suppose,       30 
Yet  must  we  sing  them,  as  good  stuff  I  undertake, 
As  for  such  a  pen-man  is  well  fitting  to  make. 
"  Ah,  for  these  long  nights!  heigho!  when  will  it  be  day? 
I  fear  ere  I  come  she  will  be  wooed  away." 
Then  when  answer  is  made  that  it  may  not  be,         35 
"  O  death,  why  comest  thou  not  by  and  by  ?  "  saith  he. 
But  then,  from  his  heart  to  put  away  sorrow, 
He  is  as  far  in  with  some  new  love  next  morrow. 


86  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER       [Acxus  II 

But  in  the  mean  season  we  trudge  and  we  trot. 
From  dayspring  to  midnight  I  sit  not,  nor  rest  not.  40 
And  now  am  I  sent  to  dame  Christian  distance, 
But  I  fear  it  will  end  with  a  mock  for  pastance. 
I  bring  hei  a  ring,  with  a  token  in  a  clout, 
And  by  all  guess  this  same  is  her  house  out  of  doubt. 
I  know  it  now  perfect,  I  am  in  my  right  way.  45 

And,  lo !  yond  the  old  nurse  that  was  with  us  last  day. 


ACTUS  II,  SCLENA  II 

MADGE  MUMBLECRUST.    DOBINET  DOUGHTIE. 

M.  Mumble.  I  was  ne'er  so  shoke  up  afore,  since  I 

was  born. 
That  our  mistress  could  not  have  chid,  I  would  have 

sworn  — 

And  I  pray  God  I  die,  if  I  meant  any  harm, 
But  for  my  life-time  this  shall  be  to  me  a  charm. 
D.  Dough.  God  you  save  and  see,  nurse,  and  how 
is  it  with  you  ?  5 

M.  Mumble.  Marry,  a  great  deal  the  worse  it  is  for 

such  as  thou. 

D.  Dough.  For  me?  Why  so? 
M.  Mumble.  Why,  were  not  thou  one  of  them,  say, 
That  sang  and  played  here  with  the  gentleman  last  day? 
D.  Dough.  Yes,  and  he  would  know  if  you  have 

for  him  spoken, 

And  prays  you  to  deliver  this  ring  and  token.  10 

M.  Mumble.  Now  by  the  token  that  God  tokened, 

brother, 

I  will  deliver  no  token,  one  nor  other. 
I  have  once  been  so  shent  for  your  master's  pleasure, 
As  I  will  not  be  again  for  all  his  treasure. 


III]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  87 

D.  Dough.  He  will  thank  you,  woman. 

M,  Mumble.  I  will  none  of  his  thank.     [Ex. 

D.  Dough.  I  ween  I  am  a  prophet,  this  gear  will 
prove  blank :  16 

But  what,  should  I  home  again  without  answer  go? 
It  were  better  go  to  Rome  on  my  head  than  so. 
I  will  tarry  here  this  month,  but  some  of  the  house 
Shall  take  it  of  me,  and  then  I  care  not  a  louse.      20 
But  yonder  cometh  forth  a  wench  or  a  lad, 
If  he  have  not  one  Lombard's  touch,  my  luck  is  bad. 


ACTUS   II,   SO3ENA  III 

TBUPENIE.   D.  DOUGHTIE.    TIBET  TALKAPACE.  ANNOT  ALYFACE. 

Trupenie.  I  am  clean  lost  for  lack  of  merry  com- 
pany, 

We  'gree  not  half  well  within,  our  wenches  and  I : 
They  will  command  like  mistresses,  they  will  forbid, 
If  they  be  not  served,  Trupenie  must  be  chid. 
Let  them  be  as  merry  now  as  ye  can  desire,  5 

With  turning  of  a  hand,  our  mirth  lieth  in  the  mire. 
I  cannot  skill  of  such  changeable  mettle, 
There  is  nothing  with  them  but  "  in  dock  out  nettle." 
D.  Dough.  Whether  is  it  better  that  I  speak  to 

him  first, 

Or  he  first  to  me? —  It  is  good  to  cast  the  worst.     10 
If  I  begin  first,  he  will  smell  all  my  purpose, 
Otherwise  I  shall  not  need  anything  to  disclose. 
Trupenie.  What  boy  have  we  yonder  ?  I  will  see 

what  he  is. 

D.  Dough.  He  cometh  to  me.  It  is  hereabout,  i-wis. 

Trupenie.  Wouldest  thou  ought,  friend,  that  thou 

lookest  so  about  ?  15 


88  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER       [ACTUS  II 

D.  Dough.  Yea,  but  whether  ye  can  help  me  or  no, 

I  doubt. 

I  seek  to  one  mistress  Custance  house  here  dwelling. 
Trupenie.  It  is   my  mistress  ye  seek  to,  by  your 

telling. 

D.  Dough.  Is  there  any  of  that  name  here  but  she? 
Trupenie.  Not  one  in  all  the  whole  town   that  I 

kuow,  pardee.  20 

D.  Dough.  A  widow  she  is,  I  trow. 
Trupenie.  And  what  and  she  be  ? 

D.  Dough.  But  ensured  to  an  husband. 
Trupenie.  Yea,  so  think  we. 

D.  Dough.  And  I  dwell  with   her   husband  that 

trusteth  to  be. 
Trupenie.  In  faith,  then  must  thou  needs  be  welcome 

to  me  — 

Let  us  for  acquaintance  shake  hands  togither,  25 

And  whate'er  thou  be,  heartily  welcome  hither. 

Enter  TIBET  and  ANNOT 

Tib.  Talk.  Well,  Trupenie,  never  but  flinging  ? 
An.  Alyface.  And  frisking? 

Trupenie.  Well,  Tibet  and  Annot,  still  swinging 

and  whisking  ? 

Tib.  Talk.  But  ye  roil  abroad  — 
An.  Alyface.  In  the  street  everywhere. 

Trupenie.  Where  are  ye  twain  —  in  chambers  — 
when  ye  meet  me  there  ?  30 

But  come  hither,  fools,  I  have  one  now  by  the  hand, 
Servant  to  him  that  must  be  our  mistress'  husband, 
Bid  him  welcome. 

An.  Alyface.       To  me  truly  is  he  welcome. 
Tib.  Talk.  Forsooth,  and  as  I  may  say,  heartily 
welcome. 


&LENA  III]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  89 

D.  Dough.  I  thank  you,  mistress  maids. 
An.  Alyface.  I  hope  we  shall  better  know.    35 

Tib.  Talk.  And  when  will  our  new  master  come  ? 
D.  Dough.  Shortly,  I  trow. 

Tib.  Talk.  I  would  it  were  to-morrow :  for  till  he 

resort, 

Our  mistress,  being  a  widow,  hath  small  comfort ; 
And  I  heard  our  nurse  speak  of  an  husband  to-day 
Ready  for  our  mistress,  a  rich  man  and  a  gay.          40 
And  we  shall  go  in  our  French  hoods  every  day, 
In  our  silk  cassocks  (I  warrant  you)  fresh  and  gay, 
In  our  trick  ferdegews  and  biliments  of  gold ; 
Brave  in  our  suits  of  change,  seven  double  fold 
Then  shall   ye   see   Tibet,  sirs,   tread   the  moss  so 
trim  —  45 

Nay,  why  said  I  "  tread  "  ?  —  ye  shall  see  her  glide 

and  swim, 

Not  lumperdee,  clumperdee,  like  our  spaniel  Rig. 
Trupenie.  Marry,  then,  prick-me-dainty,  come  toast 

me  a  fig ! 

Who  shall  then  know  our  Tib  Talkapace,  trow  ye  ? 
An.  Alyface.  And  why  not  Annot  Alyface  as  fine 
as  she  ?  50 

Trupenie.  And  what  had  Tom  Trupenie,  a  father 

or  none  ? 
An.  Alyface.  Then  our  pretty  new-come  man  will 

look  to  be  one. 
Trupenie.  We  four,  I  trust,  shall  be  a  joyly  merry 

knot. 

Shall  we  sing  a  fit  to  welcome  our  friend,  Annot  ? 
An.  Alyface.  Perchance  he  cannot  sing. 
D.  Dough.  I  am  at  all  assays.  55 

Tib.  Talk.  By  Cock,  and  the  better  welcome  to  us 
always.  [Here  they  sing. 


90  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER       [Ac-rus  II 

A  thing  very  fit 

For  them  that  have  wit, 

And  are  fellows  knit 
Servants  in  one  house  to  be,  60 

Is  fast  for  to  sit, 

And  not  oft  to  flit, 

Nor  vary  a  whit, 
But  lovingly  to  agree. 

No  man  complaining,  65 

No  other  disdaining, 

For  loss  or  for  gaining, 
But  fellows  or  friends  to  be. 

No  grudge  remaining, 

No  work  refraining,  70 

Nor  help  restraining, 
But  lovingly  to  agree. 

No  man  for  despite, 

By  word  or  by  write 

His  fellow  to  twite,  75 

But  further  in  honesty, 

No  good  turns  entwite, 

Nor  old  sores  recite, 

But  let  all  go  quite, 
And  lovingly  to  agree.  80 

After  drudgery, 

When  they  be  weary, 

Then  to  be  merry, 
To  laugh  and  sing,  they  be  free  — 

With  chip  and  cherry,  85 

Heigh  derry  derry, 

Trill  on  the  berry  — 
And  lovingly  to  agree. 

Finis. 


IV]      RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  91 

Tib.  Talk.  Will  you  now  in  with  us  unto  our  mis- 
tress go? 

D.  Dough.  I  have  first  for  my  master  an  errand  or 
two.  90 

But  I  have  here  from  him  a  token  and  a  ring, 
They  shall  have  most  thank  of  her  that  first  doth  it 

bring. 

Tib.  Talk.  Marry,  that  will  I ! 
Trupenie.  See  and  Tibet  snatch  not  now. 

Tib.  Talk.  And  why  may  not  I,  sir,  get  thanks  as 
well  as  you  ?  [Exeat. 

An.  Alyface.  Yet  get  ye  not  all,  we  will  go  with 
you  both,  95 

And  have  part  of  your  thanks,  be  ye  never  so  loth. 

[Exeant  omnet. 

D.  Dough.  So  my  hands  are  rid  of  it,  I  care  for  no 

more. 
I  may  now  return  home,  so  durst  I  not  afore.     [Exeat. 

ACTUS   II,   SO3ENA  IV 

C.  CUSTANCE.    TIBET.    ANNOT  ALYFACE.    TRUPENIE. 

C.  Custance.  Nay,  come  forth  all  three  ;  and  come 

hither,  pretty  maid. 
Will  not  so  many  forewarnings  make  you  afraid? 

Tib.  Talk.  Yes,  forsooth. 

C.  Custance.      But  still  be  a  runner  up  and  down, 
Still  be  a  bringer  of  tidings  and  tokens  to  town. 

Tib.  Talk.  No,  forsooth,  mistress. 

C.  Custance.  Is  all  your  delight  and  joy  5 

In  whisking  and  ramping  abroad  like  a  torn-boy  ? 

Tib.  Talk.   Forsooth,  these  were  there  too,  Annot 
and  Trupenie. 

Trupenie.  Yea,  but  ye  alone  took  it,  ye  cannot  deny. 


92  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER       [Acrus  II 

An.  Alyface.  Yea,  that  ye  did. 

Tibet.  But  if  I  had  not,  ye  twain  would. 

C.  distance.  You  great  calf,  ye  should  have  more 

wit,  so  ye  should;  10 

But  why  should  any  of  you  take  such  things  in  hand  ? 

Tibet.    Because  it  canie  from    him  that  must  be 

your  husband. 

C.  Custance.  How  do  ye  know  that  ? 
Tibet.  Forsooth,  the  boy  did  say  so. 

C.  Custance.  What  was  his  name  ? 
An.  Alyface.  We  asked  not. 

C.  Custance.  No? 

An.  Alyface.  He  is  not  far  gone,  of  likelihood. 
Trupenie.  I  will  see.  15 

C.  Custance.  If  thou  canst  find  him  in  the  street, 

bring  him  to  me. 

Trupenie.  Yes.  [Exeat. 

C.  Custance.  Well,  ye  naughty  girls,  if  ever  I  per- 
ceive 

That  henceforth  you  do  letters  or  tokens  receive, 
To  bring  unto  me  from  any  person  or  place, 
Except  ye  first  show  me  the  party  face  to  face,         20 
Either  thou  or  thou,  full  truly  abye  thou  shalt. 

Tibet.  Pardon  this,  and  the  next  time  powder  me 

in  salt. 
C.  Custance.  I  shall  make  all  girls  by  you  twain 

to  beware. 

Tibet.  If  ever  I  offend  again,  do  not  me  spare ! 
But  if  ever  I  see  that  false  boy  any  more  25 

By  your  mistresship's  licence,  I  tell  you  afore, 
I  will  rather  have  my  coat  twenty  times  swinged, 
Than  on  the  naughty  wag  not  to  be  avenged. 

C.   Custance.  Good  wenches  would  not  so  ramp 
abroad  idly,  29 


RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  93 

But  keep  within  doors,  and  ply  their  work  earnestly. 
If  one  would  speak  with  me  that  is  a  man  likely, 
Ye  shall  have  right  good  thank  to  bring  me  word 

quickly. 

But  otherwise  with  messages  to  come  in  post 
From  henceforth,  I  promise  you,  shall  be  to  your 

cost. 
Get  you  in  to  your  work.  35 

Tibet.  Yes,  forsooth. 

C.  Custance.  Hence,  both  twain. 

And  let  me  see  you  play  me  such  a  part  again. 

Re-enter  TBUPESIE. 

Trupenie.  Mistress,  I  have  run  past  the  far  end  of 

the  street, 

Yet  can  I  not  yonder  crafty  boy  see  nor  meet. 
C.  Custance.  No? 

Trupenie.     Yet  I  looked  as  far  beyond  the  people, 

As  one  may  see  out  of  the  top  of  Paul's  steeple.       41 

C.    Custance.  Hence,  in  at  doors,  and  let  me  no 

more  be  vexed. 

Trupenie.  Forgive  me  this  one  fault,  and  lay  on  for 

the  next.  [Exeat. 

C.   Custance.  Now  will  I  in  too,  for  I  think,  so 

God  me  mend, 
This  will  prove  some  foolish  matter  in  the  end.         45 

[Exeat. 

ACTUS  III,  SC^ENA  I 

MATHEW  MERYGKEEKE. 

M.  Mery.  Now  say  this  again  —  he  hath  somewhat 

to  doing 
Which  followeth  the  trace  of  one  that  is  wooing, 


94  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER     [ACTUS  III 

Specially  that  hath  no  more  wit  in  his  head, 
Than  my  cousin  Roister  Doister  withal  is  led. 
I  am  sent  in  all  haste  to  espy  and  to  mark  5 

How  our  letters  and  tokens  are  likely  to  wark. 
Master  Roister  Doister  must  have  answer  in  haste, 
For  he  loveth  not  to  spend  much  labour  in  waste. 
Now  as  for  Christian  Custance,  by  this  light, 
Though  she  had  not  her  troth  to  Gawin  Good  luck 

plight,  10 

Yet  rather  than  with  such  a  loutish  dolt  to  marry, 
I  daresay  would  live  a  poor  life  solitary. 
But  fain  would  I  speak  with  Custance,  if  I  wist  how, 
To  laugh  at  the   matter  —  yond  cometh  one  forth 

now. 

ACTUS  III,  SCJENA  II 

TIBET.    M.  MERYGREKKE.    CHRISTIAN  CUSTANCE. 

Tib.  Talk.  Ah,  that  I  might  but  once  in  my  life  have 

a  sight 

Of  him  that  made  us  all  so  ill  shent  —  by  this  light, 
He  should  never  escape  if  I  had  him  by  the  ear, 
But  even  from  his  head  I  would  it  bite  or  tear ! 
Yea,  and  if  one  of  them  were  not  enow,  5 

I  would  bite  them  both  off,  I  make  God  avow ! 

M.  Mery.  What  is  he,  whom  this  little  mouse  doth 

so  threaten  ? 
Tib.  Talk.  I  would  teach  him,  I  trow,  to  make  girls 

shent  or  beaten  ! 
M.  Mery.  I  will  call  her.  Maid,  with  whom  are  ye 

so  hasty? 

Tib.   Talk.   Not  with   you,  sir,  but  with  a   little 
wagpasty,  10 

A  deceiver  of  folks  by  subtle  craft  and  guile. 


II]       RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  95 

M.   Mery.   I  know  where  she  is  —  Dobinet  hath 

wrought  somewile. 
Tib.  Talk.  He  brought  a  ring  and  token  which  he 

said  was  sent 
From  our  dame's   husband,  but   I  wot  well   I  was 

shent  — 

For  it  liked  her  as  well,  to  tell  you  no  lies,  15 

As  water  in  her  ship,  or  salt  cast  in  her  eyes  ; 
And  yet  whence  it  came  neither  we  nor  she  can  tell. 
M.  Mery.  We  shall  have  sport  anon  —  I  like  this 

very  well ! 

And  dwell  ye  here  with  mistress  Custance,  fair  maid  ? 

Tib.   Talk.  Yea,  marry  do  I,  sir  —  what  would  ye 

have  said  ?  20 

M.  Mery.  A  little  message  unto  her  by  word  of 

mouth. 

Tib.   Talk.  No  messages,  by  your  leave,  nor  tokens 

forsooth. 

M.  Mery.  Then  help  me  to  speak  with  her. 

Tib.  Talk.  With  a  good  will  that. 

Here  she  cometh  forth.  Now  speak  ye  know  best  what. 

C.   Custance.  None  other  life  with  you,  maid,  but 

abroad  to  skip?  25 

Tib.   Talk.  Forsooth,  here  is  one  would  speak  with 

your  mistress-ship. 
C.   Custance.  Ah,  have  ye  been  learning  of   mo 

messages  now? 
Tib.    Talk.   I  would  not  hear  his  mind,  but  bade 

him  show  it  to  you. 
C.    Custance.  In  at  doors. 

Tib.   Talk.  I  am  gone.  [Ex. 

M.  Mery.  Dame  Custance,  God  ye  save. 

C.   Custance.  Welcome,  friend  Merygreeke  —  and 

what  thing  would  ye  have  ?  30 


96  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [ACTUS  III 

M.  Mery.  I  am  come  to  you  a  little  matter  to  break. 
C.    distance.  But  see  it  be  honest,  else  better  not 

to  speak. 
M.  Mery.  How  feel  ye  yourself  affected  here  of 

late? 
C.   distance.  I  feel  no  manner  change  but  after 

the  old  rate. 
But  whereby  do  ye  mean  ? 

M.  Mery.  Concerning  marriage.     35 

Doth  not  love  lade  you  ? 

C.   distance.  I  feel  no  such  carriage. 

M.  Mery.  Do  ye  feel  no  pangs  of  dotage  ?  answer 

me  right. 
C.   Custance.  I  dote  so,  that  I  make  but  one  sleep 

all  the  night. 
But  what  need  all  these  words  ? 

M.  Mery.  Oh,  Jesus,  will  ye  see 

What  dissembling  creatures  these  same  women  be  ?  40 
The  gentleman  ye  wot  of,  whom  ye  do  so  love 
That  ye  would  fain  marry  him,  if  ye  durst  it  move, 
*'  Among  other  rich  widows,  which  are  of  him  glad," 
Lest  ye,  for   lesing  of  him,   perchance   might   run 

mad, 

Is  now  contented  that,  upon  your  suit-making,          45 
Ye  be  as  one  in  election  of  taking. 

C.   Custance.  What  a  tale  is  this?  "that  I  wote 

of?"  "whom  I  love?" 
M.  Mery.  Yea,  and  he  is  as  loving  a  worm,  again, 

as  a  dove. 

E'en  of  very  pity  he  is  willing  you  to  take, 
Because  ye  shall  not  destroy  yourself  for  his  sake.  50 
C.   Custance.  Marry,  God  yield  his  maship  what- 
ever he  be. 
It  is  gentmanly  spoken. 


SC.ENA  II]       RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  97 

M.  Mery.  Is  it  not,  trow  ye  ? 

If  ye  have  the  grace  now  to  offer  yourself,  ye  speed. 
C.    distance.  As  much  as  though  I  did  — this  time 

it  shall  not  need. 

But  what  gentman  is  it,  I  pray  you  tell  me  plain,    55 
That  wooeth  so  finely  ? 

M.  Mery.  Lo,  where  ye  be  again, 

As  though  ye  knew  him  not. 

C.   Custance.  Tush,  ye  speak  in  jest. 

M.  Mery.  Nay  sure,  the  party  is  in  good  knacking 

earnest, 

And  have  you  he  will,  he  saith,  and  have  you  he  must. 

C.    Custance.  I  am  promised  during  my  life  ;  that 

is  just.  60 

M.  Mery.  Marry  so  thinketh  he,  unto  him  alone. 

C.    Custance.  No  creature  hath  my  faith  and  troth 

but  one, 

That  is  Gawyn  Goodluck,  and,  if  it  be  not  he, 
He  hath  no  title  this  way  whatever  he  be,  64 

Nor  I  know  none  to  whom  I  have  such  word  spoken. 
M.  Mery.  Ye  know  him  not,  you,  by  his  letter  and 

token  ? 

C.    Custance.  Indeed  true  it  is,  that  a  letter  I  have, 
But  I  never  read  it  yet,  as  God  me  save. 

M.  Mery.  Ye  a  woman,  and  your  letter  so  long 

imread  ? 

C.    Custance.  Ye  may  thereby  know  what  haste  I 
have  to  wed.  .  70 

But  now  who  it  is,  for  my  hand  I  know  by  guess. 
M.  Mery.  Ah,  well  I  say ! 

C.    Custance.  It  is  Roister  Doister,  doubtless. 

M.  Mery.  "Will  ye  never  leave  this  dissimulation  ? 
Ye  know  him  not? 

C.    Custance.        But  by  imagination, 


98  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER     [Acxus  III 

For  no  man  there  is  but  a  very  dolt  and  lout  75 

That  to  woo  a  widow  would  so  go  about. 
He  shall  never  have  me  his  wife  while  he  do  live. 
M.  Mery.  Then  will  he  have  you  if  he  may,  so 

mote  I  thrive, 

And  he  biddeth  you  send  him  word  by  me, 
That  ye  humbly  beseech  him,  ye  may  his  wife  be,    80 
And  that  there  shall  be  no  let  in  you  nor  mistrust, 
But  to  be  wedded  on  Sunday  next  if  he  lust, 
And  biddeth  you  to  look  for  him. 

C.   distance.  Doth  he  bid  so? 

M.  Mery.  When  he  cometh,  ask  him  whether  he 

did  or  no. 

C.  Custance.  Go  say  that   I  bid  him   keep  him 
warm  at  home,  85 

For  if  he  come  abroad,  he  shall  cough  me  a  mome ; 
My    mind    was    vexed,    I    shrew   his    head,    sottish 

dolt! 

M.  Mery.  He  hath  in  his  head  — 
C.    Custance.  As  much  brain  as  a  burbolt. 

M.  Mery.  Well,  dame  Custance,  if  he  hear  you 

thus  play  choploge  — 
C.  Custance.  What  will  he  ? 

M.  Mery.  Play  the  devil  in  the  horologe.    90 

C.   Custance.  I  defy  him,  lout. 
M.  Mery.  Shall  I  tell  him  what  ye  say? 

C.  Custance.  Yea,  and  add  whatsoever  thou  canst, 

I  thee  pray. 
And  I  will  avouch  it,  whatsoever  it  be. 

M.  Mery.  Then  let  me  alone  —  we  will  laugh  well, 

ye  shall  see, 

It  will  not  be  long  ere  he  will  hither  resort.  95 

C.  Custance.  Let  him  come  when  him  lust,  I  wish 
no  better  sport. 


III]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  99 

Fare  ye  well,  I  will  in,  and  read  my  great  letter. 
I  shall  to  ray  wooer  make  answer  the  better. 

[Exeat. 

ACTUS  III,  SC^NA  III 

MATHEW  MERYGREEKE.    ROISTER  DOISTER. 

M.  Mery.  Now  that  the  whole  answer  in  my  device 

doth  rest, 

I  shall  paint  out  our  wooer  in  colours  of  the  best, 
And  all  that  I  say  shall  be  on  Custance's  mouth ; 
She  is  author  of  all  that  I  shall  speak  forsooth. 
But  yond  cometh  Roister  Doister  now  in  a  trance.     5 
12.  Roister.  Juno  send  me  this  day  good  luck  and 

good  chance! 

I  cannot  but  come  see  how  Merygreeke  doth  speed. 
M.  Mery.  I  will  not  see  him,  but  give  him  a  jut 

indeed. 
I  cry  your  mastership  mercy. 

R.  Roister.  And  whither  now? 

M.  Mery.  As  fast  as  I  could  run,  sir,  in  post  against 

you.  10 

But  why  speak  ye  so  faintly,  or  why  are  ye  so  sad? 

R.  Roister.  Thou  knowest  the  proverb  —  because 

I  cannot  be  had. 
Hast  thou  spoken  with  this  woman  ? 

M.  Mery.  Yea,  that  I  have. 

R.  Roister.  And  what  will' this  gear  be? 
M.  Mery.  No,  so  God  me  save. 

R.  Roister.  Hast  thou  a  flat  answer? 
M.  Mery.  Nay,  a  sharp  answer. 

R.  Roister.  What?  15 

M.  Mery.  Ye  shall  not,  she  saith,  by  her  will  marry 
her  cat. 


100  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER     [Acxus  III 

Ye  are  such  a  calf,  such  an  ass,  such  a  block, 

Such  a  lilburn,  such  a  hoball,  such  a  lobcock, 

And  because  ye  should  come  to  her  at  no  season, 

She  despised  your  maship  out  of  all  reason.  20 

"Bawawe  what  ye  say,"  ko  I,  "of  such  a  gentman." 

"Nay,  I  fear  him  not,"  ko  she,  "do  the  best  he  can. 

He  vaunteth  himself  for  a  man  of  prowess  great, 

Whereas  a  good  gander,  I  daresay,  may  him  beat. 

And  where  he  is  louted  and  laughed  to  scorn,  25 

For  the  veriest  dolt  that  ever  was  born, 

And  veriest  lover,  sloven  and  beast, 

Living  in  this  world  from  the  west  to  the  east: 

Yet  of  himself  hath  he  such  opinion, 

That  in  all  the  world  is  not  the  like  minion.  30 

He  thinketh  each  woman  to  be  brought  in  dotage 

With  the  only  sight  of  his  goodly  personage. 

Yet  none  that  will  have  him  —  we  do  him  lout  and 

flock, 
And   make    him    among   us    our    common    sporting 

stock, 

And  so  would  I  now,"  ko  she,  "  save  only  because."    35 
"Better  nay,"  ko  I,  "I  lust  not  meddle  with  daws. 
Ye  are  happy,"  ko  I,  "  that  ye  are  a  woman. 
This  would  cost  you  your  life  in  case  ye  were  a  man." 

R.   Roister.    Yea,   an   hundred    thousand   pound 
should  not  save  her  life ! 

M.  Mery.  No,  but  that  ye  woo  her  to  have  her  to 
your  wife —  40 

But  I  could  not  stop  her  mouth. 

R.  Roister.  Heigh  ho,  alas ! 

M.  Mery.  Be  of  good  cheer,  man,  and  let  the  world 
pass. 

R.  Roister.  What  shall  I  do  or  say  now  that  it  will 
not  be? 


RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  101 

M.  Mery.  Ye  shall  have  choice  of  a  thousand  as 

good  as  she, 
And  ye  must  pardon  her ;  it  is  for  lack  of  wit.          45 

R.  Holster.  Yea,forwerenotlanhusbandforherfit? 
Well,  what  should  I  now  do? 

M.  Mery.  In  faith  I  cannot  tell. 

R.  Roister.  1  will  go  home  and  die. 

M.  Mery.  Then  shall  I  bid  toll  the  bell? 

R.  Roister.  No. 

M.  Mery.  God  have  mercy  on  your  soul,  ah,  good 

gentleman, 

That  e'er  ye  should  th[u]s  die  for  an  unkind  woman.    50 
Will  ye  drink  once  ere  ye  go? 

R.  Roister.  No,  no,  I  will  none. 

M.  Mery.  How  feel  your  soul  to  God  ? 

R.  Roister.  I  am  nigh  gone. 

M.  Mery.  And  shall  we  hence  straight? 

R.  Roister.  Yea. 

M.  Mery.  Placebo  dilexi.         [vt  infra* 

Master  Roister  Doister  will  straight  go  home  and  die. 

R.  Roister.  Heigh-ho!  Alas,  the  pangs  of  death 
my  heart  do  break!  55 

M.  Mery.  Hold  your  peace  for  shame,  sir,  a  dead 

man  may  not  speak! 

Nequando.  —  What  mourners  and  what  torches  shall 
we  have? 

R.  Roister.  None. 

M.  Mery.  Dirige.  He  will  go  darkling  to  his  grave, 
Neque  htx,  neque  crux,  neque  mourners,  neque  clink, 
He  will  steal  to  heaven,  unknowing  to  God,  I  think,  60 
A  porta  inferi.  Who  shall  your  goods  possess? 

R.  Roister.  Thou  shalt  be  my  sectour,  and  have  all 
more  and  less. 

1  As  below  (referring  to  the  Psalmody  at  the  end  of  the  play). 


102  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [Acxus  III 

M.  Mery.  Requiem  ceternam.  —  Now,  God  reward 

your  mastership. 

And  I  will  cry  halfpenny-dole  for  your  worship. 
Come  forth,  sirs,  hear  the  doleful  news  I  shall  you 
tell.  [Evocat  servos  militis.1   65 

Our  good  master  here  will  no  longer  with  us  dwell, 
But  in  spite  of  Custance,  which  hath  him  wearied, 
Let  us  see  his  maship  solemnly  buried. 
And  while  some  piece  of  his  soul  is  yet  him  within, 
Some  part  of  his  funerals  let  us  here  begin.  70 

Audivi  vocem.  All  men  take  heede  by  this  one  gentle- 
man, 

How  you  set  your  love  upon  an  unkind  woman. 
For  these  women  be  all  such  mad  peevish  elves, 
They  will  not  be  won  except  it  please  themselves. 
But  in  faith,  Custance,  if  ever  ye  come  in  hell,         75 
Master  Roister  Doister  shall  serve  you  as  well ! 
And  will  ye  needs  go  from  us  thus  in  very  deed? 

R.  Roister.  Yea,  in  good  sadness. 

M.  Mery.  Now,  Jesus  Christ  be  your  speed. 

Good-night,  Roger,  old  knave !  farewell,  Roger,  old 
knave !  79 

Good-night,  Roger,  old  knave!  knave,  knap!   [ut  infra. 
Pray  for  the  late  master  Roister  Doister's  soul, 
And  come  forth,  parish  clerk,  let  the  passing  bell  toll. 

[Ad  servos  militis. 

Pray  for  your  master,  sirs,  and  for  him  ring  a  peal. 
He  was  your  right  good  master  while  he  was  in  heal. 
Qui  Lazarum. 

It.  Roister.     Heigh-ho ! 

M.  Mery.  Dead  men  go  not  so  fast  85 

In  Paradisum. 

1  He  calls  up  the  servants  of  the  Miles  Gloriosus,  or  Braggart 
Captain,  i.e.,  Roister  Doister. 


III]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  103 

R.  Roister.  Heigh-ho! 

M.  Mery.  Soft,  hear  what  I  have  cast. 

R.  Roister.  I  will  hear  nothing;,  I  am  past. 

M.  Mery.  Whough,  wellaway ! 

Ye  may  tarry  one  hour,  and  hear  what  I  shall  say, 
Ye  were  best,  sir,  for  a  while  to  revive  again, 
And  quite  them  ere  ye  go. 

R.  Roister.  Trowest  thou  so  ? 

M.  Mery.  Yea,  plain !  90 

R.  Roister.  How  may  I  revive,  being  now  so  far  past? 

M.  Mery.   I  will  rub  your  temples,  and  fet  you  again 
at  last. 

R.  Roister.  It  will  not  be  possible. 

M.  Mery.  Yes,  for  twenty  pound. 

R.  Roister.  Arms,  what  dost  thou  ? 

M.  Mery.  Fet  you  again  out  of  your  sound. 

By  this  cross  ye  were  nigh  gone  indeed,  I  might  feel  95 
Your  soul  departing  within  an  inch  of  your  heel. 
Now  follow  my  counsel. 

R.  Roister.  What  is  it  ? 

M.  Mery.  If  I  were  you, 

distance  should  eft  seek  to  me,  ere  I  would  bow. 

R.  Roister.  Well,  as  thou  wilt  have  me,  even  so 
will  I  do. 

M.  Mery.  Then  shall  ye  revive  again  for  an  hour 
or  two.  100 

R.  Roister.  As  thou  wilt,  I  am  content  for  a  little 
space. 

M.  Mery.    "Good  hap  is  not  hasty,  yet  in  space 

cometh  grace." 

To  speak  with  Custance  yourself  should  be  very  well, 
What  good  thereof  may  come,  nor  I  nor  you  can  tell. 
But  now  the  matter  standeth  upon  your  marriage,  105 
Ye  must  now  take  unto  you  a  lusty  courage. 


104  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [Acres  III 

Ye  may  not  speak  with  a  faint  heart  to  distance, 
But  with  a  lusty  breast  and  countenance, 
That  she  may  know  she  hath  to  answer  to  a  man. 
R.  Roister.  Yes,  I  can  do  that  as  well  as  any  can.  110 
M.  Mery.  Then  because  ye  must  Custance  face  to 

face  woo, 

Let  us  see  how  to  behave  yourself  ye  can  do. 
Ye  must  have  a  portly  brag  after  your  estate. 

R.  Roister.  Tush,  I  can  handle  that  after  the  best 

rate. 

M.  Mery.  Well  done !    so  lo,   up  man  with  your 
head  and  chin,  115 

Up  with  that  snout,  man  !  So,  lo,  now  ye  begin  !  — 
So,  that  is  something  like  —  but,  pranky  cote,  neigh 

whan ! 
That  is   a  lusty    brute  —  hands    under    your    side, 

man! 

So,  lo,  now  is  it  even  as  it  should  be  — 
That  is  somewhat  like,  for  a  man  of  your  degree.    120 
Then  must  ye  stately  go,  jetting  up  and  down. 
Tut,  can  ye  no  better  shake  the  tail  of  your  gown  ? 
There,  lo,  such  a  lusty  brag  it  is  ye  must  make. 
R.   Roister.    To  come  behind,  and  make  curtsy, 

thou  must  some  pains  take. 

M.  Mery.  Else  were  I  much  to  blame,  I  thank  your 
mastership.  125 

The  Lord  one  day  all-to-begrime  you  with  worship ! 
Back,  Sir  Sauce,  let  gentlefolks  have  elbow  room, 
Void,  sirs,  see  ye  not  master  Roister  Doister  come? 
Make  place,  my  masters. 

R.  Roister.  Thou  jostlest  now  too  nigh. 

M.  Mery.  Back,  all  rude  louts ! 

R.  Roister.  Tush! 

M.  Mery.  I  cry  your  maship  mercy.  130 


III]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  105 

Heyday  —  if  fair  fine  mistress  distance  saw  you  now, 
Ralph  Roister  Doister  were  her  own,  I  warrant  you. 
It.  Roister.  Ne'er  an  M.  by  your  girdle  ? 
M.  Mery.  Your  Good  Mastership's 

Mastership  were  her  own  Mistress-ship's  Mistress-ship! 
Ye  were  take  up  for  hawks,  ye  were  gone,  ye  were 
gone !  135 

But  now  one  other  thing  more  yet  I  think  upon. 
R.  Roister.  Show  what  it  is. 

M.  Mery.  A  wooer,  be  he  never  so  poor, 

Must  play  and  sing  before  his  best-beloved's  door, 
How  much  more,  then,  you  ? 

R.  Roister.  Thou  speakest  well,  out  of  doubt. 

M.  Mery.  And  perchance  that  would  make  her  the 

sooner  come  out.  140 

R.  Roister.  Go  call  my  musicians,  bid  them  hie 

apace. 

M.  Mery.  I  will  be  here  with  them  ere  ye  can  say 

"Treyace."  [Exeat. 

R.  Roister.  This  was  well  said  of  Merygreeke,  I  'low 

his  wit. 

Before  my  sweetheart's  door  we  will  have  a  fit, 
That  if  my  love  come  forth,  that  I  may   with  her 
talk,  145 

I  doubt  not  but  this  gear  shall  on  my  side  walk. 
But,  lo,  how  well  Merygreeke  is  returned  sence. 

[Re-enter  MERYGREEKE. 
M.  Mery.  There  hath  grown  no  grass  on  my  heel 

since  I  went  hence, 
Lo,  here  have  I  brought  that  shall  make  you  past- 

ance. 

R.  Roister.  Come,  sirs,  let  us  sing  to  win  my  dear 
love  Custance.  150 

[Content. 


106  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [ACTUS  III 

M.  Mery.  Lo,  where  she  cometh,  some  countenance 

to  her  make, 

And  ye  shall  hear  me  be  plain  with  her  for  your 
sake. 


ACTUS  III,  SC^ENA  IV 

CCSTANCE.    MEKYGREKKK.     ROISTER  DOISTER. 

C.    Custance.   What  gauding  and  fooling   is  this 

afore  my  door? 
M.   Mery.    May  not   folks    be   honest,  pray  you, 

though  they  be  poor? 
C.   Custance.  As  that  thing  may  be  true,  so  rich 

folks  may  be  fools. 
R.  Roister.  Her  talk  is  as  fine  as  she  had  learned 

in  schools. 
M.  Mery.  Look  partly  toward  her,  and  draw  a 

little  near.  5 

C.  Custance.  Get  ye  home,  idle  folks ! 
M.  Mery.  Why,  may  not  we  be  here? 

Nay,  and  ye  will  ha'ze,  ha'ze  —  otherwise,  I  tell  you 

plain, 

And  ye  will  not  ha'ze,  then  give  us  our  gear  again. 
C.   Custance.  Indeed  I  have  of  yours  much  gay 

things,  God  save  all. 
R.  Roister.   Speak  gently  unto  her,  and  let  her 

take  all.  10 

M.  Mery.  Ye  are  too  tender-hearted  :  shall  she 

make  us  daws  ? 
Nay,  dame,  I  will  be  plain  with  you  in  my  friend's 

cause. 

R.  Roister.  Let  all  this  pass,  sweetheart,  and  ac- 
cept my  service. 


IV]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  107 

C.  distance.  I  will  not  be  served  with  a  fool  in  no 

wise. 

When  I  choose  an  husband  I  hope  to  take  a  man.    15 
M.  Mery.  And  where  will  ye  find  one  which  can 

do  that  he  can  ? 

Now  this  man  toward  you  being  so  kind, 
You  not  to  make  him  an  answer  somewhat   to  his 

mind ! 
C.  distance.  I  sent  him  a  full  answer  by  you,  did 

I  not? 

M.  Mery.  And  I  reported  it. 

C.  distance.  Nay,  I  must  speak  it  again.  20 

It.  Roister.  No,  no,  he  told  it  all. 
M.  Mery.  Was  I  not  meetly  plain  ? 

jR.  Roister.  Yes. 
M.  Mery.  But  I  would  not  tell  all ;  for  faith,  if  I 

had, 

With  you,dame  Custance,  ere  thishour  it  had  been  bad, 
And  not  without  cause  —  for  this  goodly  personage 
Meant  no  less  than  to  join  with  you  in  marriage.      25 
C.   Custance.  Let  him  waste  no  more  labour  nor 

suit  about  me. 
M.  Mery.    Ye  know  not   where  your   preferment 

lieth,  I  see, 
He  sending  you  such  a  token,  ring  and  letter. 

C.    Custance.  Marry,  here  it  is — ye  never  saw  a 

better. 

M.  Mery.  Let  us  see  your  letter. 
C.  Custance.  Hold,  read  it  if  ye  can,  30 

And  see  what  letter  it  is  to  win  a  woman. 

M.  Mery.  "  To  mine  own  dear  coney-bird,  sweet- 
heart, and  pigsney, 

Good  Mistress  Custance,  present  these  by  and  by." 
Of  this  superscription  do  ye  blame  the  style? 


108  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [AcTUS  III 

O.    distance.  With  the  rest  as  good  stuff  as  ye 

read  a  great  while.  35 

M.  Mery.    "  Sweet  mistress,  where  as   I  love  you 

nothing  at  all  — 

Regarding  your  substance  and  richesse  chief  of  all  — • 
For  your  personage,  beauty,  demeanour  and  wit, 
I  commend  me  unto  you  never  a  whit.  — 
Sorry  to  hear  report  of  your  good  welfare,  40 

For  (as  I  hear  say)  such  your  conditions  are, 
That  ye  be  worthy  favour  of  no  living  man, 
To  be  abhorred  of  every  honest  man, 
To  be  taken  for  a  woman  inclined  to  vice, 
Nothing  at  all  to  virtue  giving  her  due  price.  —       45 
Wherefore,  concerning  marriage,  ye  are  thought 
Such  a  fine  paragon,  as  ne'er  honest  man  bought. — 
And  now  by  these  presents  I  do  you  advertise 
That  I  am  minded  to  marry  you  in  no  wise.  — 
For  your  goods  and  substance,  I  could  be  content    50 
To  take  you  as  ye  are.  If  ye  mind  to  be  my  wife, 
Ye  shall  be  assured,  for  the  time  of  my  life, 
I  will  keep  you  right  well  from  good  raiment  and 

fare  — 

Ye  shall  not  be  kept  but  in  sorrow  and  care  — 
Ye  shall  in  no  wise  live  at  your  own  liberty.  55 

Do  and  say  what  ye  lust,  ye  shall  never  please  me ; 
But  when  ye  are  merry,  I  will  be  all  sad  ; 
When  ye  are  sorry,  I  will  be  very  glad ; 
When  ye  seek  your  heart's  ease,  I  will  be  unkind  ; 
At  no  time  in  me  shall  ye  much  gentleness  find,       60 
But  all  things  contrary  to  your  will  and  mind, 
Shall  be  done  —  otherwise  I  will  not  be  behind 
To  speak.   And  as  for  all  them  that  would  do  you 

wrong, 
I  will  so  help  and  maintain,  ye  shall  not  live  long  — 


IV]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  109 

Nor  any  foolish  dolt  shall  cumber  you  but  I.  65 

I,  whoe'er  say  nay,  will  stick  by  you  till  I  die. 
Thus,  good  mistress  Custance,  the  Lord  you  save  and 

keep; 

From  me,  Roister  Doister,  whether  I  wake  or  sleep  — 
Who  favoureth  you  no  less,  ye  may  be  bold, 
Than  this  letter  purporteth,  which  ye  have  unfold."  70 
C.  Custance.  How  by  this  letter  of  love  ?  is  it  not 

fine? 
R.  Roister.  By  the  arms  of  Caleys,  it  is  none  of 

mine. 
M.  Mery.  Fie,  you  are  foul  to  blame,  this  is  your 

own  hand ! 
C.  Custance.  Might  not  a  woman  be  p*roud  of  such 

an  husband  ? 

M.  Mery.  Ah,  that  ye  would  in  a  letter  show,  such 

despite !  75 

R.  Roister.  Oh,  I  would  I  had  him  here,  the  which 

did  it  endite ! 
M.  Mery.  Why,  ye  made  it  yourself,  ye  told  me,  by 

this  light. 
R.  Roister.  Yea,  I  meant  I  wrote  it  mine  own  self 

yesternight. 
C.  Custance.  I-wis,  sir,  I  would  not  have  sent  you 

such  a  mock. 

R.  Roister.  Ye  may  so  take  it,  but  I  meant  it  not 

so,  by  Cock.  80 

M.  Mery.  Who  can  blame  this  woman  to  fume  and 

fret  and  rage  ? 

Tut,  tut!  yourself  now  have  marred  your  own  marriage. 
Well,  yet  mistress  Custance,  if  ye  can  this  remit, 
This  gentleman  otherwise  may  your  love  requit. 

C.  Custance.  No,  God  be  with  you  both,  and  seek 
no  more  to  me.  [Exeat. 


110  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER     [Acxus  III 

R.  Roister.  Wough !  she  is  gone  for  ever,  I  shall 
her  no  more  see.  86 

M.  Mery.  What,  weep  ?  Fie,  for  shame !  And  blub- 
ber? For  manhood's  sake, 

Never  let  your  foe  so  much  pleasure  of  you  take. 
Rather  play  the  man's  part,  and  do  love  refrain. 
If  she  despise  you,  e'en  despise  ye  her  again.  90 

R.  Roister.  By  Goss,  and  for  thy  sake  I  defy  her 

indeed. 
M.  Mery.   Yea,  and  perchance  that  way  ye  shall 

much  sooner  speed, 

For  one  mad  property  these  women  have  in  fey, 
When  ye  will,  they  will  not,  will  not  ye,  then  will  they. 
Ah,  foolish  woman  !  ah,  most  unlucky  Custance !      95 
Ah,  unfortunate  woman !  ah,  peevish  Custance ! 
Art  thou  to  thine  harms  so  obstinately  bent, 
That  thou  canst  not  see  where  lieth  thine  high  prefer- 
ment? 
Canst  thou  not  lub  dis  man,  which  could  lub  dee  so 

well? 
Art  thou  so  much  thine  own  foe? 

R.  Roister.  Thou  dost  the  truth  tell.  100 

M.  Mery.  Well  I  lament. 
R.  Roister.  So  do  I. 

M.  Mery.  Wherefore  ? 

R.  Roister.  For  this  thing. 

Because  she  is  gone. 

M.  Mery.  I  mourn  for  another  thing. 

R.  Roister.    What  is  it,  Merygreeke,  wherefore 

thou  dost  grief  take  ? 
M.  Mery.  That  I  am  not  a  woman  myself  for  your 

sake, 

I  would  have  you  myself,  and  a  straw  for  yond  gill,  105 
And  mock  much  of  you,  though  it  were  against  my  will. 


IV]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  111 

I  would  not,  I  warrant  you,  fall  in  such  a  rage, 
As  so  to  refuse  such  a  goodly  personage. 

It.  Roister.  In  faith,  I  heartily  thank  thee,  Mery- 

greeke. 

M.  Mery.  And  I  were  a  woman  — 
R.  Roister.  Thou  wouldest  to  me  seek.  110 

M.  Mery.  For,  though  I  say  it,  a  goodly  person  ye 

be. 

R.  Roister.  No,  no. 

M.  Mery.  Yes,  a  goodly  man  as  e'er  I  did  see. 

R.  Roister.  No,  I  am  a  poor  homely  man,  as  God 

made  me. 
M.  Mery.  By  the  faith  that  I  owe  to  God,  sir,  but 

ye  be! 

Would  I  might  for  your  sake  spend  a  thousand  pound 

land.  115 

R.  Roister.  I  dare  say  thou  wouldest  have  me  to 

thy  husband. 
M.  Mery.  Yea,  and  I  were  the  fairest  lady  in  the 

shire, 

And  knew  you  as  I  know  you,  and  see  you  now  here  — 
Well,  I  say  no  more. 

R.  Roister.  Gramercies,  with  all  my  heart ! 

M.  Mery.  But  since  that  cannot  be,  will  ye  play  a 
wise  part  ?  120 

R.  Roister.  How  should  I  ? 

M.  Mery.          Refrain  from  distance  a  while  now, 
And  I  warrant  her  soon  right  glad  to  seek  to  you. 
Ye  shall  see  her  anon  come  on  her  knees  creeping, 
And  pray  you  to  be  good  to  her,   salt  tears  weep- 
ing. 

R.  Roister.  But  what  and  she  come  not  ? 
M.  Mery.  In  faith,  then,  farewell  she.  125 

Or  else  if  ye  be  wroth,  ye  may  avenged  be. 


112  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [ACTUS  III 

JR.  Roister.  By  Cock's  precious  potstick,  and  e'en 

so  I  shall. 

I  will  utterly  destroy  her,  and  house  and  all. 
But  I  would  be  avenged  in  the  mean  space, 
On  that  vile  scribbler,  that  did  my  wooing  disgrace.  130 
M.  Mery.  "  Scribbler,"  ko  you,  indeed  he  is  worthy 

no  less. 
I  will  call  him  to  j^ou,  and  ye  bid  me  doubtless. 

R.  Roister.  Yes,  for  although  he  had  as  many  lives, 
As  a  thousand  widows,  and  a  thousand  wives, 
As  a  thousand  lions,  and  a  thousand  rats,  135 

A  thousand  wolves,  and  a  thousand  cats, 
A  thousand  bulls,  and  a  thousand  calves, 
And  a  thousand  legions  divided  in  halves, 
He  shall  never  'scape  death  on  my  sword's  point, 
Though  I  should  be  torn  therefore  joint  by  joint.   140 
M.  Mery.  Nay,  if  ye  will  kill  him,  I  will  not  fet 

him, 

I  will  not  in  so  much  extremity  set  him  ; 
He  may  yet  amend,  sir,  and  be  an  honest  man, 
Therefore  pardon  him,  good  soul,  as  much  as  ye  can. 
R.  Roister.  Well,  for  thy  sake,  this  once  with  his 
life  he  shall  pass,  145 

But  I  will  hew  him  all  to  pieces,  by  the  Mass. 

M.  Mery.  Nay,  faith,  ye  shall  promise  that  he  shall 

no  harm  have, 
Else  I  will  not  fet  him. 

R.  Roister.  I  shall,  so  God  me  save  — 

But  I  may  chide  him  a-good. 

M.  Mery.  Yea,  that  do,  hardily. 

R.  Roister.  Go,  then. 

M.  Mery.  I  return,  and  bring  him  to  you  by  and 
by.  150 

[Ex. 


SC.ENAV]       RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  113 

ACTUS  III,  SC^ENA  V 

ROISTER  DOISTER.     MATHEW  MEKYGREEKE.    SCRIVENER. 

R.  Roister.    What  is  a  gentleman  but  his  word 

and  his  promise  ? 

I  must  now  save  this  villain's  life  in  any  wise, 
And  yet  at  him  already  my  hands  do  tickle, 
I  shall  uneth  hold  them,  they  will  be  so  fickle. 
But,  lo,  and  Merygreeke  have  not  brought  him  sence. 
M.  Mery.  Nay,  I  would  I  had  of  my  purse  paid 
forty  pence.  6 

Scrivener.  So  would  I  too ;  but  it  needed  not,  that 

stound. 
M.  Mery.  But  the  gentman  had  rather  spent  five 

thousand  pound, 

For  it  disgraced  him  at  least  five  times  so  much. 
Scrivener.  He  disgraced  himself,  his  loutishness  is 
such.  10 

R.  Roister.    How  long  they  stand  prating  !  Why 

comest  thou  not  away  ? 
M.  Mery.  Come  now  to    himself,  and   hark  what 

he  will  say. 

Scrivener.  I  am  not  afraid  in  his  presence  to  appear. 
R.  Roister.  Art  thou  come,  fellow  ? 
Scrivener.  How  think  you  ?  Am  I  not  here  ? 

R.  Roister.  What  hindrance  hast  thou  done  me, 
and  what  villainy  ?  15 

Scrivener.  It  hath   come  of  thyself,  if  thou    hast 

had  any. 
R.  Roister.  All  the  stock  thou  comest  of  later  or 

rather, 

From  thy  first  father's  grandfather's  father's  father, 
Nor  all  that  shall  come  of  thee  to  the  world's  end, 


114  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER     [Acxus  III 

Though  to  threescore  generations  they  descend,        20 
Can  be  able  to  make  me  a  just  recompense, 
For  this  trespass  of  thine  and  this  one  offence. 
Scrivener.   Wherein  ? 

JR.  Roister.  Did  not  you  make  me  a  letter,  brother? 
Scrivener.  Pay  the  like  hire,  I  will  make  you  such 

another. 

R.  Roister.  Nay,  see  and  these  whoreson  Pharisees 
and  Scribes  25 

Do  not  get  their  living  by  polling  and  bribes. 
If  it  were  not  for  shame  — 

Scrivener.  Nay,  hold  thy  hands  still. 

M.  Mery.  Why,  did  ye  not  promise  that  ye  would 

not  him  spill? 

Scrivener.  Let  him  not  spare  me. 
R.  Roister.  Why  wilt  thou  strike  me  again  ? 

Scrivener.  Ye  shall  have  as  good  as  ye  bring  of 
me,  that  is  plain.  30 

M.  Mery.  I  cannot   blame  him,   sir,   though  your 

blows  would  him  grieve. 

For  he  knoweth  present  death  to  ensue  of  all  ye  give. 
R.  Roister.    Well,   this  man  for  once  hath  pur- 
chased thy  pardon. 
Scrivener.  And  what  say  ye  to  me?  or  else  I  will 

be  gone. 

R.  Roister.  I  say  the  letter  thou  madest  me  was 

not  good.  35 

Scrivener.  Then  did  ye  wrong  copy  it,  of  likelihood. 

R.  Roister.  Yes,  out  of  thy  copy  word  for  word  I 

wrote. 

Scrivener.  Then  was  it  as  ye  prayed  to  have  it,  I  wot, 

But  in  reading  and  pointing  there  was  made  some  fault. 

R.  Roister.  I  wot  not,  but  it  made  all  my  matter 

to  halt.  40 


V]       RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  115 

Scrivener.  How  say  you,  is  this  mine  original  or  no  ? 
R.  Bolster.  The  self  same  that  I  wrote  out  of,  so 

mote  I  go ! 
Scrivener.  Look  you  on  your  own  fist,  and  I  will 

look  on  this, 

And  let  this  man  be  judge  whether  I  read  amiss. 
"To    mine   own    dear   coney- bird,    sweetheart,    and 

pigsney,  45 

Good  Mistress  Custance,  present  these  by  and  by." 
How  now  ?  doth  not  this  superscription  agree  ? 

R.  Roister.  Read   that   is  within,    and   there   ye 

shall  the  fault  see. 
Scrivener.  "  Sweet  mistress,  whereas  I  love   you 

nothing  at  all  49 

Regarding  your  richesse  and  substance  —  chief  of  all 
For  your  personage,  beauty,  demeanour,  and  wit 
I  commend  me  unto  you.  —  Never  a  whit 
Sorry  to  hear  report  of  your  good  welfare, 
For  (as  I  hear  say)  such  your  conditions  are, 
That  ye  be  worthy  favour ;  of  no  living  man  55 

To  be  abhorred ;  of  every  honest  man 
To  be  taken  for  a  woman  inclined  to  vice 
Nothing  at  all ;  to  virtue  giving  her  due  price.  — 
Wherefore  concerning  marriage,  ye  are  thought 
Such  a  fine  paragon,  as  ne'er  honest  man  bought.  —  60 
And  now  by  these  presents  I  do  you  advertise, 
That  I  am  minded  to  marry  you — in  no  wise 
For  your  goods  and  substance  —  I  can  be  content 
To  take  you  as  you  are.  If  ye  will  be  my  wife, 
Ye  shall  be  assured  for  the  time  of  my  life,  65 

I  will  keep  you  right  well ;  from  good  raiment  and 

fare, 

Ye  shall  not  be  kept ;  but  in  sorrow  and  care 
Ye  shall  in  no  wise  live ;  at  your  own  liberty, 


116  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER     [ACTUS  III 

Do  and  say  what  ye  lust ;  ye  shall  never  please  me 
But  when  ye  are  merry  ;  I  will  be  all  sad  70 

When  ye  are  sorry;  I  will  be  very  glad 
When  ye  seek  your  heart's  ease ;  I  will  be  unkind 
At  no  time ;  in  me  shall  ye  much  gentleness  find. 
But  all  things  contrary  to  your  will  and  mind 
Shall  be  done  otherwise ;  I  will  not  be  behind          75 
To  speak.  And  as  for  all  them  that  would  do  you 

wrong  — 

I  will  so  help  and  maintain  ye  —  shall  not  live  long. 
Nor  any  foolish  dolt  shall  cumber  you,  but  I, 
I,  whoe'er  say  nay,  will  stick  by  you  till  I  die. 
Thus,  good  mistress  Custance,  the  Lord  you  save  and 
keep.  —  80 

From  me,  Roister  Doister,  whether  I  wake  or  sleep, 
Who  favoureth  you  no  less,  ye  may  be  bold, 
Than  this  letter  purporteth,  which  ye  have  unfold." 
Now,  sir,  what  default  can  ye  find  in  this  letter? 
R.  Roister.  Of  truth,  in  my  mind  there  cannot  be 
a  better.  85 

Scrivener.  Then  was  the  fault  in  reading,  and  not 

in  writing, 

No,  nor  I  dare  say  in  the  form  of  enditing. 
But  who  read  this  letter,  that  it  sounded  so  naught  ? 
M.  Mery.  I  read  it,  indeed. 

Scrivener.  Ye  read  it  not  as  ye  ought. 

R.  Roister.  Why,  thou  wretched  villain,  was  all 

this  same  fault  in  thee  ?  90 

M.  Mery.  I  knock  your  costard  if  ye  offer  to  strike 

me ! 
R.  Roister.  Strikest  thou,  indeed  ?  and  I  offer  but 

in  jest? 

M.  Mery.  Yea,  and  rap  you  again  except  ye  can  sit 
in  rest  — 


RALPH  ROISTER  DOrSTER  117 

And  I  will  no  longer  tarry  here,  me  believe ! 

R.  Roister.  What,  wilt  thou  be  angry,  and  I  do  thee 
forgive?  95 

Fare  thou  well,  scribbler,  I  cry  thee  mercy  indeed. 
Scrivener.  Fare  ye  well,  bibbler,  and  worthily  may 

ye  speed ! 
R.  Roister.  If  it  were  another  but  thou,  it  were  a 

knave. 
M.  Mery.  Ye  are  another  yourself,  sir,  the  Lord  us 

both  save. 

Albeit  in  this  matter  I  must  your  pardon  crave.     100 
Alas,  would  ye  wish  in  me  the  wit  that  ye  have  ? 
But  as  for  my  fault  I  can  quickly  amend, 
I  will  show  Custance  it  was  I  that  did  offend. 

R.  Roister.  By  so  doing  her  anger  maybe  reformed. 
M.  Mery.  But  if  by  no  entreaty  she  will  be  turned, 
Then  set  light  by  her  and  be  as  testy  as  she,  106 

And  do  your  force  upon  her  with  extremity. 

R.  Roister.  Come  on,  therefore,  let  us  go  home  in 

sadness. 
M.  Mery.  That  if  force  shall  need  all  may  be  in  a 

readiness  — 

And  as  for  this  letter,  hardily,  let  all  go.  110 

We  will  know  where  she  refuse  you  for  that  or  no. 

\_Exeant  am. 

ACTUS  IV,    SO3CNA  I 

SYM  SURESBY. 

Sym  Sure.  Is  there  any  man  but  I,  Sym  Suresby, 

alone, 

That  would  have  taken  such  an  enterprise  him  upon, 
In  such  an  outrageous  tempest  as  this  was, 
Such  a  dangerous  gulf  of  the  sea  to  pass? 


118  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [Acxus  IV 

I  think,  verily,  Neptune's  mighty  godship  5 

Was  angry  with  some  that  was  in  our  ship, 
And  but  for  the  honesty  which  in  me  he  found, 
I  think  for  the  others'  sake  we  had  been  drowned. 
But  fie  on  that  servant  which  for  his  master's  wealth 
Will  stick  for  to  hazard  both  his  life  and  his  health.  10 
My  master,  Gawyn  Goodluck,  after  me  a  day, 
Because  of  the  weather,  thought  best  his  ship  to  stay, 
And  now  that  I  have  the  rough  surges  so  well  past, 
God  grant  I  may  find  all  things  safe  here  at  last. 
Then  will  I  think  all  my  travail  well  spent.  15 

Now  the  first  point  wherefore  my  master  hath  me  sent. 
Is  to  salute  dame  Christian  Custance,  his  wife 
Espoused,  whom  he  tendereth  no  less  than  his  life. 
I  must  see  how  it  is  with  her,  well  or  wrong, 
And  whether  for  him  she  doth  not  now  think  long.  20 
Then  to  other  friends  I  have  a  message  or  tway, 
And  then  so  to  return  and  meet  him  on  the  way. 
Now  will  I  go  knock  that  I  may  despatch  with  speed, 
But  lo,  forth  cometh  herself  happily  indeed. 


ACTUS  IV,  SC^NA  II 

CHRISTIAN  CUSTANCB.  STM  SORESBT. 

C.   Custance.  I  come  to  see  if  any  more  stirring 

be  here, 

But  what  stranger  is  this  which  doth  to  me  appear  ? 
Sym  Sure.  I  will  speak  to  her.  Dame,  the  Lord 

you  save  and  see. 

C.   Custance.  What,  friend  Sym  Suresby?  For- 
sooth, right  welcome  ye  be ! 

How  doth  mine  own  Gawyn  Goodluck,  I  pray  thee 
tell? 


SC.KNA  III]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  119 

Sym  Sure.  When  he  knoweth  of  your  health  he 

will  be  perfect  well. 
C.    distance.  If  he  have  perfect  health,  I  am  as  I 

would  be. 
Sym  Sure.  Such  news  will  please  him  well,  this 

is  as  it  should  be. 

C.    distance.  I  think  now  long  for  him. 
Sym  Sure.  And  he  as  long  for  you. 

C.    distance.  When  will  he  be  at  home  ? 
Sym  Sure.  His  heart  is  here  e'en  now,  10 

His  body  cometh  after. 

C.   Cu stance.  I  would  see  that  fain. 

Sym  Sure.  As  fast  as  wind  and  sail  can  carry  it 

amain. 

But  what  two  men  are  yond  coming  hitherward? 
C.   Custance.  Now  I  shrew  their  best  Christmas 

cheeks  both  tojretherward. 


ACTUS   IV,   SCJENA   III 

CHRISTIAN  CUSTANCE.  SYM  SURESRY.  RALPH  ROISTER.  MATHEW 
MERYGREEKE.  TRUPENIE. 

C.   Custance.  What  mean  these  lewd  fellows  thus 

to  trouble  me  still  ? 
Sym  Suresby  here  perchance  shall  thereof  deem  some 

ill, 

And  shall  suspect  in  me  some  point  of  naughtiness  — 
And  they  come  hitherward! 

Sym  Sure.  What  is  their  business? 

C.    Custance.  I  have  nought  to  them ;  nor  they  to 

me  in  sadness.  5 

Sym  Sure.  Let  us  hearken  them  ;  somewhat  there 

is,  I  fear  it. 


120  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [ACTUS  IV 

R.  Roister.  I  will  speak  out  aloud  best,  that  she 

may  hear  it. 
M.  Mery.  Nay,  alas,  ye  may  so  fear  her  out  of  her 

wit. 
R.  Roister.  By  the  cross  of  my  sword,  I  will  hurt 

her  no  whit. 

M.  Mery.  Will  ye   do  no   harm  indeed?  shall   I 

trust  your  word?  10 

R.  Roister.  By  Roister  Doister's  faith,  I  will  speak 

but  in  bord. 
Sym  Sure.  Let  us  hearken  them  ;  somewhat  there 

is,  I  fear  it. 
R.  Roister.  I  will  speak  out  aloud,  I  care  not  who 

hear  it : 

Sirs,  see  that  my  harness,  my  target,  and  my  shield, 
Be  made  as  bright  now,  as  when  I  was  last  in  field,  15 
As  white  as  I  should  to  war  again  to-morrow : 
For  sick  shall  I  be,  but  I  woi'k  some  folk  sorrow. 
Therefore  see  that  all  shine  as  bright  as  Saint  George, 
Or  as  doth  a  key  newly  come  from  the  smith's  forge, 
I   would   have  my  sword  and   harness   to    shine    so 
bright,  20 

That  I  might  therewith  dim  mine  enemies'  sight, 
I  would  have  it  cast  beams  as  fast,  I  tell  you  plain, 
As  doth  the  glittering  grass  after  a  shower  of  rain. 
And  see  that  in  case  I  should  need  to  come  to  arming, 
All  things  may  be  ready  at  a  minute's  warning,       25 
For  such  chance  may  chance  in  an  hour,  do  ye  hear  ? 
M.  Mery.  As  perchance  shall  not  chance  again  in 

seven  year. 
7?.  Roister.  Now  draw  we  near  to  her,  and  hear 

what  shall  be  said. 

M.  Mery.  But  I  would  not  have  you  make  her 
too  much  afraid. 


RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  121 

R.   Roister.   Well  found,  sweet  wife,  I  trust,  for 
all  this  your  sour  look.  30 

C.    distance.      "  Wife  "  —  why  call  ye  me  wife  ? 
Sym  Sure.          "  Wife  ?  "  This  gear  goeth  a-crook. 
M.  Mery.  Nay,  mistress  distance,  I  warrant  you, 

our  letter 

Is  not  as  we  read  e'en  now,  but  much  better, 
And  where  ye  half  stomached  this  gentleman  afore. 
For  this  same  letter,  ye  will  love  him  now  therefore. 
Nor  it  is  not  this  letter,  though  ye  were  a  queen,     36 
That  should  break  marriage  between  you  twain,  I  ween, 
C.    distance.  I  did  not  refuse  him  for  the  letter's 

sake. 

R.  Roister.  Then  ye  are  content  me  for  your  hus- 
band to  take  ? 

C.    distance.  You  for  my  husband  to  take  ?  no- 
thing less,  truly.  40 
R.  Roister.  Yea,    say    so,   sweet    spouse,    afore 

strangers  hardily. 
M.  Mery.    And  though  I  have  here  his  letter  of 

love  with  me, 

Yet  his  ring  and  tokens  he  sent,  keep  safe  with  ye. 
C.  distance.  A  mischief  take  his  tokens,  and  him 

and  thee  too ! 

But  what  prate  I  with  fools?  have  I  naught  else  to  do? 

Come    in    with    me,    Sym    Suresby,    to   take    some 

repast.  46 

Sym  Sure.  I  must  ere  I  drink,  by  your  leave,  go 

in  all  haste, 

To  a  place  or  two,  with  earnest  letters  of  his. 
C.  distance.  Then  come  drink  here  with  me. 
Sym  Sure.  I  thank  you  ! 

C.  Custance.  Do  not  miss. 

You  shall  have  a  token  to  your  master  with  you.      50 


122  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [Acxus  IV 

Sym  Sure.  No  tokens  this  time,  gramercies,  God  be 

with  you.  [Exeat. 

C.  Custance.  Surely  this  fellow  raisdeemeth  some 

ill  in  me, 

Which  thing  but  God  help,  will  go  near  to  spill  me. 
R.  Roister.  Yea,  farewell,  fellow,  and  tell  thy  mas- 
ter Good  luck 

That  he  cometh  too  late  of  this  blossom  to  pluck      55 
Let  him  keep  him  there  still,  or  at  leastwise  make  no 

haste, 

As  for  his  labour  hither  he  shall  spend  in  waste. 
His  betters  be  in  place  now. 

M.  Mery.  As  long  as  it  will  hold. 

C.  Custance.  I  will  be  even  with  thee,  thou  beast, 

thou  mayst  be  bold ! 
R.  Roister.  Will  ye  have  us  then  ? 
C-  Custance.  I  will  never  have  thee !      60 

R.  Roister.  Then  will  I  have  you  ? 
C.  Custance.  No,  the  devil  shall  have  thee ! 

I  have  gotten  this  hour  more  shame  and  harm  by  thee, 
Than  all  thy  life  days  thou  canst  do  me  honesty. 
M.  Mery.  Why  now  may  ye  see  what  it  cometh  to, 

in  the  end, 

To  make  a  deadly  foe  of  your  most  loving  friend  ;  65 
And,  i-wis,  this  letter,  if  ye  would  hear  it  now  — 
C.  Custance.  I  will  hear  none  of  it. 
M.  Mery.  In  faith,  would  ravish  you. 

C.  Custance.  He  hath  stained  my  name  for  ever, 

this  is  clear. 

R.  Roister.  I  can  make  all  as  well  in  an  hour. 
M.  Mery.  As  ten  year. 

How  say  ye,  will  ye  have  him  ? 
C.  Custance.  No. 

M.  Mery.  Will  ye  take  him  ?     70 


SC.ENA  III]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  123 

C.  Custance.  I  defy  him. 
M.  Mery.  At  my  word  ? 

C.  Custance.  A  shame  take  him. 

Waste  no  more  wind,  for  it  will  never  be. 

M.  Mery.  This  one  fault  with  twain  shall  be  mended, 

ye  shall  see. 

Gentle   mistress  Custance,  now,  good  mistress  Cus- 
tance ! 

Honey  mistress  Custance,  now,  sweet  mistress  Cus- 
tance !  75 
Golden  mistress  Custance,  now,  white  mistress  Cus- 
tance ! 

Silken  mistress  Custance,  now,  fair  mistress  Custance ! 
C.  Custance.  Faith,  rather  than  to  marry  with  such 

a  doltish  lout, 

I  would  match  myself  with  a  beggar,  out  of  doubt. 
M.  Mery.  Then  I  can  say  no  more ;  to  speed  we 
are  not  like,  80 

Except  ye  rap  out  a  rag  of  your  rhetoric. 

C.  Custance.  Speak  not  of  winning  me,  for  it  shall 

never  be  so ! 
R.  Roister.  Yes,  dame,  I  will  have  you,  whether 

ye  will  or  no ! 

I  command  you  to  love  me,  wherefore  should  ye  not? 
Is  not  my  love  to  you  chafing  and  burning  hot  ?       85 
M.  Mery.  To  her !  That  is  well  said. 
R.  Roister.  Shall  I  so  break  my  brain 

To  dote  upon  you,  and  ye  not  love  us  again  ? 
M.  Mery.  Well  said  yet ! 
C.  Custance.  Go  to,  you  goose  ! 

R.  Roister.  I  say,  Kit  Custance, 

In    case   ye   will    not    ha'ze,  —  well,   better  "  yes," 

perchance ! 
C.  Custance.  A  vaunt,  losel!  pick  thee  hence. 


124  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [Acrus  IV 

M.  Mery.  "Well,  sir,  ye  perceive,  90 

For  all  your  kind  offer,  she  will  not  you  receive. 
R.  Roister.  Then  a  straw  for  her,  and  a  straw  for 

her  again, 

She  shall  not  be  my  wife,  would  she  never  so  fain  — 
No,  and  though  she  would  be  at  ten  thousand  pound 

cost! 

M.  Mery.  Lo,  dame,  ye  may  see  what  an  husband 

ye  have  lost.  95 

C.    Custance.    Yea,  no  force,  a  jewel  much  better 

lost  than  found. 
M.  Mery.  Ah,  ye  will  not  believe  how  this  doth 

my  heart  wound. 

How  should  a  marriage  between  you  be  toward, 
If  both  parties  draw  back,  and  become  so  froward? 
R.  Roister.  Nay,  dame,  I  will  fire  thee  out  of  thy 
house,  100 

And  destroy  thee  and  all  thine,  and  that  by  and  by  ! 
M.  Mery.  Nay,  for  the  passion  of  God,  sir,  do  not  so. 
R.  Roister.  Yes,  except  she  will  say  yea  to  that  she 

said  no. 
C.  Custance.  And  what  —  be  there  no  officers,  trow 

we,  in  town 

To  check  idle  loiterers,  bragging  up  and  down  ?      105 
Where   be  they,  by  whom  vagabonds  should  be  re- 
pressed, 

That  poor  silly  widows  might  live  in  peace  and  rest? 
Shall  I  never  rid  thee  out  of  my  company? 
J  will  call  for  help.  What  ho,  come  forth,  Trupenie! 

[Enter  Trupenie. 

Trupenie.  Anon.  What  is  your  will,  mistress?  did 
ye  call  me?  110 

C.  Custance.  Yea.  Go  run  apace,  and  as  fast  as  may 
be, 


RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  125 

Pray  Tristram  Trustie,  my  most  assured  friend, 
To  be  here  by  and  by,  that  he  may  me  defend. 

Trupenie.  That  message  so  quickly  shall  be 'done, 

by  God's  grace, 

That  at  my  return  ye  shall  say,  I  went  apace.          115 

[Exeat. 

C.   Custance.  Then  shall  we  see,  I  trow,  whether 

ye  shall  do  me  harm. 
It.  Roister.  Yes,  in  faith,  Kit,  I  shall  thee  and  thine 

so  charm, 
That  all  women  incarnate  by  thee  may  beware. 

C.  Custance.  Nay,  as  for  charming  me,  come  hither 

if  thou  dare, 

I  shall  clout  thee  till  thou  stink,  both  thee  and  thy 

train,  120 

And  coil  thee  mine  own  hands,  and  send  thee  home 

again. 
R.  Roister.  Yea,  sayest  thou  me  that,  dame?  Dost 

thou  me  threaten? 
Go  we,  I  still  see  whether  I  shall  be  beaten! 

M.  Mery.  Nay,  for  the  pashe  of  God,  let  me  now 

treat  peace, 

For  bloodshed  will  there  be  in  case  this  strife  in- 
crease. 125 
Ah,  good  dame  Custance,  take  better  way  with  you. 
C.  Custance.  Let  him  do  his  worst. 
M.  Mery.                                         Yield  in  time. 
R.  Roister.                                    Come  hence,  thou. 

\_Exeant  Roister  et  Mery. 


126  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [Acxus  IV 

ACTUS   IV,   SOENA  IV 

• 

CHRISTIAN  CCTSTANCE.    ANNOT  ALYFACB.    TIBET  T. 

M.    AICMBLECRUST. 

C.  Custance.  So,  sirrah,  if  I  should  not  with  him 

take  this  way, 
I   should  not    be  rid   of   him,   I  think,    till    doom's 

day. 

I  will  call  forth  my  folks,  that,  without  any  mocks, 
If  he  come  again  we  may  give  him  raps  and  knocks. 
Madge  Mumblecrust,  come   forth,   and  Tibet  Talk- 
apace.  5 
Yea,  and  come  forth  too,  mistress  Annot  Alyface. 
An.  Alyface.  I  come. 
Tibet.                       And  I  am  here. 
M.  Mumble.                And  I  am  here  too,  at  length. 
C.  Custance.  Like  warriors,  if  need  be,  ye  must 

show  your  strength. 

The  man  that  this  day  hath  thus  beguiled  you, 
Is  Ralph  Roister  Doister,  whom  ye  know  well  inowe,    10 
The   most   lout   and   dastard   that   ever   on   ground 

trod. 
Tib.  Talk.  I  see  all  folk  mock  him  when  he  goeth 

abroad. 
C.  Custance.  What,  pretty  maid,  will  ye  talk  when 

I  speak? 

Tib.  Talk.  No,  forsooth,  good  mistress! 
C.  Custance.  Will  ye  my  tale  break? 

He  threateneth  to  come  hither  with  all  his  force  to 
fight,  15 

I  charge  you,  if  he  come,  on  him  with  all  your  might. 
M.  Mumble.    I  with   my    distaff    will    reach    him 
one  rap. 


Sc*:NAV]       'RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  127 

Tib.  Talk.  And  I  with  my  new  broom  will  sweep 

him  one  swap, 

And  then  with  our  great  club  I  will  reach  him  one  rap. 

An.  Alyface.  And  I  with  our  skimmer  will  fling 

him  one  flap.  20 

Tib.    Talk.    Then    Trupenie's   firefork   will    him 

shrewdly  fray, 

And  you  with  the  spit  may  drive  him  quite  away. 
C.  distance.   Go,  make  all  ready,  that  it  may  be 

even  so. 
Tib.    Talk.  For  my  part  I  shrew  them  that  last 

about  it  go.  [Exeant, 


ACTUS  IV,   SOENA  V 

CHRISTIAN  CUSTANCE.    TRUPENIE.    TRISTRAM  TRUSTIE. 

C.   Custance.  Trupenie  did  promise  me  to  run  a 

great  pace, 

My  friend  Tristram  Trustie  to  fet  into  this  place. 
Indeed  he  dwelleth  hence  a  good  start,  I  confess: 
But  yet  a  quick  messenger  might  twice  since,  as  I 

guess, 

Have  gone  and  come  again.  Ah,  yond  I  spy  him  now  ! 

Trupenie.  Ye  are  a  slow  goer,  sir,  I  make  God 

avow.  6 

My  mistress  Custance  will  in  me  put  all  the  blame, 

Your  legs   be  longer   than  mine  —  come  apace    for 

shame! 
C.    Custance.  I  can  thee  thank,  Trupenie,  thou 

hast  done  right  well. 

Trupenie.  Mistress,   since   I    went  no  grass  hath 

grown  on  my  heel,  10 

But  master  Tristram  Trustie  here  maketh  no  speed. 


128  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [ACTUS  IV 

C.  distance.  That  he  came  at  all,  I  thank  him  in 

very  deed, 

For  now  have  I  need  of  the  help  of  some  wise  man. 
T.   Trust ie.  Then  may  I  be  gone  again,  for  none 

such  I  am. 
Trupenie.    Ye    may    be    by   your   going  —  for   no 

Alderman  15 

Can  go,  I  dare  say,  a  sadder  pace  than  ye  can. 

C.    Custance.  Trupenie,  get  thee  in.   Thou   shalt 

among  them  know, 
How  to  use  thyself  like  a  proper  man,  I  trow. 

Trupenie.  I  go.  [Ex. 

C-    Custance.  Now,  Tristram  Trustie,  I  thank  you 

right  much. 

For,  at  my  first  sending,  to  come  ye  never  grutch.    20 
T.    Trustie.    Dame    Custance,   God   ye  save,   and 

while  my  life  shall  last, 
For  my  friend  Goodluck's  sake  ye  shall  not  send  in 

wast. 

C.  Custance.  He  shall  give  you  thanks. 
T.  Trustie.  I  will  do  much  for  his  sake. 

C.  Custance.  But  alack,  I  fear,  great  displeasure 

shall  be  take. 
T.  Trustie.   Wherefore? 
C.  Custance.  For  a  foolish  matter. 

T.  Trustie.  What  is  your  cause  ?  25 

C.  Custance.  I  am  ill  accombred  with  a  couple  of 

daws. 
T.    Trustie.  Nay,  weep  not,  woman,  but  tell  me 

what  your  cause  is. 
As  concerning  my  friend  is  anything  amiss  ? 

C.  Custance.  No,  not  on  my  part ;  but  here  was 

Sym  Suresby  — 
T.  Ti'ustie.  He  was  with  me  and  told  me  so. 


SCJSNA  V]       RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  129 

C.  distance.  And  he  stood  by  30 

While    Ralph   Roister    Doister  with   help  of  Mery- 

greeke, 
For  promise  of  marriage  did  unto  me  seek. 

T.  Trustie.  And  had  ye  made  any  promise  before 

them  twain  ? 
C.  distance.  No,  I  had  rather  be  torn  in  pieces 

and  slain, 

No  man  hath  my  faith  and  troth,  but  Gawyn  Good- 
luck,  35 
And  that  before  Suresby  did  I  say,  and  there  stuck, 
But  of  certain  letters  there  were  such  words  spoken  — 
T.  Trustie.  He  told  me  that  too. 
C.  Custance.                  And  of  a  ring  and  token,  — 
That  Suresby  I  spied  did  more  than  half  suspect, 
That  I  my  faith  to  Gawyn  Good  luck  did  reject.        40 
T.   Trustie.  But  there  was  no  such  matter,  dame 

Custance,  indeed? 
C.    distance.  If  ever  my  head   thought  it,  God 

send  me  ill  speed ! 

Wherefore,  I  beseech  you,  with  me  to  be  a  witness, 
That  in  all  my  life  I  never  intended  thing  less, 
And  what  a  brainsick  fool  Ralph  Roister  Doister  is,   45 
Yourself  know  well  enough. 

T.  Trustie.  Ye  say  full  true,  i-wis. 

C.  Custance.  Because  to  be  his  wife  I  ne  grant 

nor  apply, 

Hither  will  he  come,  he  sweareth,  by  and  by, 
To  kill  both  me  and  mine,  and  beat  down  my  house  flat. 
Therefore  I  pray  your  aid. 

T.  Trustie.  I  warrant  you  that.        50 

C.  Custance.  Have  I  so  many  years  lived  a  sober 

life, 
And  showed  myself  honest,  maid,  widow,  and  wife, 


130  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [Acres  I\ 

And  now  to  be  abused  in  such  a  vile  sort? 
Ye  see  how  poor  widows  live  all  void  of  comfort. 
T.  Trustie.  I  warrant  him   do  you  no  harm  nor 
wrong  at  all.  55 

C.  distance.  No,  but  Mathew  Merygreeke  doth 

me  most  appall, 
That  he   would  join  himself   with  such  a  wretched 

lout. 
T.  Trustie.  He  doth  it  for  a  jest,  I  know  him  out 

of  doubt, 
And  here  cometh  Merygreeke. 

C.  Custance.  Then  shall  we  hear  his  mind. 


ACTUS  IV,   SC2ENA  VI 

MERYGREEKE.     CHRISTIAN  CUSTANCE.     TRIST.  TRUSTIE. 

M.  Mery.  Custance  and  Trustie  both,  I  do  you 

here  well  find. 
C.  Custance.  Ah,  Mathew  Merygreeke,  ye  have 

used  me  well. 
M.  Mery.  Now  for  altogether  ye  must  your  answer 

tell. 
Will   ye    have    this   man,    woman,    or   else   will   ye 

not? 
Else  will  he  come,  never  boar  so  brim  nor  toast  so 

hot.  5 

Tris.  and  Cus.  But  why  join  ye  with  him  ? 
T.  Trustie.  For  mirth  ? 

C.  Custance.  Or  else  in  sadness  ? 

M.  Mery.  The  more  fond  of  you  both  !  Hardily  the 

matter  guess. 

T.  Trustie.  Lo,  how  say  ye,  dame  ? 
M.  Mery.  Why  do  ye  think,  dame  Custance, 


SC.«NA  VI]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  131 

That  in   this  wooing  I  have  meant  ought  but  past- 

ance? 

C.  distance.    Much   things   ye    spake,   I   wot,  to 

maintain  his  dotage.  10 

M.  Mery.  But  well  might  ye  judge  I  spake  it  all 

in  mockage. 

For  why  ?  Is  Roister  Doister  a  fit  husband  for  you  ? 
T.  Trustie.  I  daresay  ye  never  thought  it. 
M.  Mery.  No,  to  God  I  vow. 

And  did  not  I  know  afore  of  the  insurance 
Between  Gawyn  Goodluck  and  Christian  Custance? 
And  did  not  I  for  the  nonce,  by  my  conveyance,       16 
Read  his  letter  in  a  wrong  sense  for  dalliance? 
That  if  you  could  have  take  it  up  at  the  first  bound, 
We  should   thereat  such  a  sport  and  pastime  have 

found, 

That  all  the  whole  town  should  have  been  the  merrier. 

C.   Custance.    Ill   ache  your  heads   both!    I  was 

never  wearier,  21 

Nor  never  more  vexed  since  the  first  day  I  was  born ! 

T.  Trustie.  But  very  well  I  wist  he  here  did  all 

in  scorn. 

C.    Custance.  But  I  feared    thereof  to   take    dis- 
honesty. 

M.  Mery.  This  should  both  have  made  sport  and 

showed  your  honesty,  25 

And  Goodluck,  I  dare  swear,  your  wit  therein  would 

'low. 
T.  Trustie.  Yea,  being  no  worse  than  we  know  it 

to  be  now. 
M.  Mery.  And  nothing  yet  too  late ;  for  when  I 

come  to  him, 

Hither  will  he  repair  with  a  sheep's  look  full  grim, 
By  plain  force  and  violence  to  drive  you  to  yield.     30 


132  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [Acxus  IV 

C.  distance.  If  ye  two  bid  me,  we  will  with  him 

pitch  a  field, 
I  and  my  maids  together. 

M.  Mery.  Let  us  see  !  be  bold. 

C.  distance.  Ye  shall  see  women's  war! 

T.  Trustie.  That  fight  will  I  behold  ! 

M.  Mary.  If   occasion  serve,  taking  his  part  full 

brim, 

I  will  strike  at  you,  but  the  rap  shall  light  on  him,  35 
When  we  first  appear. 

C.  distance.  Then  will  I  run  away 

As  though  I  were  afeard. 

T.  Trustie.  Do  you  that  part  well  play 

And  I  will  sue  for  peace. 

M.  Mery.  And  I  will  set  him  on. 

Then  will  he  look  as  fierce  as  a  Cotsold  lion. 

T.  Trustie.  But  when  goest  thou  for  him  ? 

M.  Mery.  That  do  I  very  now.  40 

C.  Custance.  Ye  shall  find  us  here. 

M.  Mery.  Well,  God  have  mercy  on  you ! 

T.  Trustie.  There  is   no  cause  of  fear;  the  least 
boy  in  the  street — 

C.  Custance.  Nay,  the  least  girl  I  have,  will  make 

him  take  his  feet. 
But  hark  !  methink  they  make  preparation. 

T.  Trustie.  No  force,  it  will  be  a  good  recreation  ! 

C.  Custance.  I  will  stand  within,  and  step  forth 
speedily,  46 

And  so  make  as  though  I  ran  away  dreadfully. 


VII]  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  133 


R.  ROISTER.     M.  MERYORBEKE.      C.  CUSTANCE.      D.  DOUGHTIE. 
HARPAX.     TRISTRAM  TRUSTIE. 

R.  Roister.  Now,  sirs,  keep  your  ray,  and  see  your 

hearts  be  stout. 

But  where  be  these  caitiffs?  methinkthey  dare  not  rout! 
How  sayest  thou,  Merygreeke  ?  —  what  doth  Kit  dis- 
tance say  ? 

M.  Mery.  I  am  loth  to  tell  you. 
R.  Roister.  Tush,  speak,  man  —  yea  or  nay  ? 

M.  Mery.  Forsooth,  sir,  I  have  spoken  for  you  all 
that  I  can,  5 

But  if  ye  win  her,  ye  must  e'en  play  the  man, 
E'en  to  fight  it  out,  ye  must  a  man's  heart  take. 
R.  Roister.  Yes,  they  shall  know,  and  thou  know- 

est,  I  have  a  stomach. 
[M.  Mery.~\   "  A  stomach,"  quod  you,  yea,  as  good 

as  e'er  man  had ! 

R.  Roister.    I  trow  they  shall  find  and  feel  that  I 

am  a  lad.  10 

M.  Mery.  By  this  cross,  I  have  seen  you  eat  your 

meat  as  well 

As  any  that  e'er  I  have  seen  of  or  heard  tell. 
"  A  stomach,"  quod  you  ?  He  that  will  that  deny, 
I  know,  was  never  at  dinner  in  your  company. 

R.  Roister.  Nay,  the  stomach  of  a  man  it  is  that  I 

mean.  15 

M.  Mery.  Nay,  the  stomach  of  a  horse  or  a  dog,I  ween. 

R.  Roister.  Nay,  a  man's  stomach  with  a  weapon, 

mean  I. 

M.  Mery.  Ten  men  can  scarce  match  you  with  a 
spoon  in  a  pie. 


134  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [Acxos  IV 

R.  Roister.  Nay,  the  stomach  of  a  man  to  try  in 

strife. 

M.  Mery.  I  never  saw  your  stomach  cloyed  yet  in 

my  life.  20 

R.  Roister.  Tush,  I  mean  in  strife  or  fighting  to  try. 

M.  Mery.  We  shall    see  how  ye  will    strike  now, 

being  angry. 
R.  Roister.  Have  at  thy  pate  then,  and  save  thy 

head  if  thou  may. 
M.  Mery.  Nay,  then  have  at  your   pate  again  by 

this  day. 

R.  Roister.  Nay,  thou  mayst  not  strike  at  me  again 

in  no  wise.  25 

M.  Mery.    I  cannot    in  fight   make    to    you    such 

warranti  se  : 

But  as  for  your  foes,  here  let  them  the  bargain  bie. 
R.  Roister.  Nay,  as  for  they,  shall  every  mother's 

child  die. 

And  in  this  my  fume  a  little  thing  might  make  me 
To  beat  down  house  and  all,  and  else  the  devil  take 
me!  30 

M.  Mery.    If    I    were    as  ye   be,  by    Gog's    dear 

mother, 

I  would  not  leave  one  stone  upon  another, 
Though   she  would   redeem  it  with  twenty  thousand 

pounds. 

R.  Roister.  It  shall  be  even  so,  by  His  lily  wounds. 

M.    Mery.    Be  not   at    one    with    her    upon     any 

amends.  35 

R.  Roister.  No,  though  she  make  to  me  never  so 

many  friends, 

Nor  if  all  the  world  for  her  would  undertake, 
No,  not  God   himself  neither,   shall   not    her  peace 
make, 


VII]   RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  135 

On,  therefore,  march  forward! — Soft,  stay  a  while 

yet. 

M.  Mery.  On. 
R.  Roister.     Tarry. 
M.  Mery.  Forth. 

R.  Roister.         Back. 
M.  Mery  On. 

R.  Roister.  Soft !  Now  forward  set !  40 

C.  Custance.  What  business  have  we  here  ?  Out! 

alas,  alas ! 

R.  Roister.  Ha,  ha,  ha,  ha,  ha ! 
Didst  thou    see  that,   Merygreeke,  how   afraid    she 

was? 

Didst  thou  see  how  she  fied  apace  out  of  my  sight  ? 
Ah,  good  sweet  Custance,  I  pity  her  by  this  light.  45 
M.  Mery.  That  tender  heart  of  yours  will  mar  alto- 
gether, — 

Thus  will  ye  be  turned  with  wagging  of  a  feather. 
R.  Roister.  On,  sirs,  keep  your  ray. 
M.  Mery.  On,  forth,  while  this  gear  is  hot. 

R.  Roister.  Soft,  the  arms  of  Caleys,  I  have  one 
thing  forgot !  49 

M.  Mery.  What  lack  we  now  ? 
R.  Roister.  Retire,  or  else  we  be  all  slain  ! 

M.  Mery.   Back,  for  the  pash  of  God!  back,  sirs, 

back  again  ! 
What  is  the  great  matter? 

R.  Roister.  This  hasty  forthgoing 

Had  almost  brought  us  all  to  utter  undoing, 
It  made  me  forget  a  thing  most  necessary. 

M.  J/i -/•//.   Well  remembered  of  a  captain,  by  Saint 
Mary.  55 

R.  Roister.  It  is  a  thing  must  be  had. 
M.  Mery.  Let  us  have  it  then. 


136  RALPH  ROISTER   DOISTER      [Acxus  IV 

It.  Roister.  But  I  wot  not  where  nor  how. 
M.  Mery.  Then  wot  not  I  when. 

But  what  is  it  ? 

R.  Roister.  Of  a  chief  thing  I  am  to  seek. 

M.  Mery.  Tut,  so  will  ye  be,  when  ye  have  studied 

a  week. 
But  tell  me  what  it  is  ? 

R.  Roister.  I  lack  yet  an  headpiece.      60 

M.  Mery.  The  kitchen  collocavit,  the  best  hens  to 

grease, 

Run,  fet  it,  Dobinet,  and  come  at  once  withal, 
And    bring  with  thee  my  pot-gun,  hanging    by  the 
wall.  [Exit  DOBINET. 

I  have  seen  your  head  with  it,  full  many  a  time, 
Covered  as  safe  as  it  had  been  with  a  skrine ;  65 

And  I  warrant  it  save  your  head  from  any  stroke, 
Except  perchance  to  be  amazed  with  the  smoke. 
I  warrant  your  head  therewith,  except  for  the  mist, 
As  safe  as  if  it  were  fast  locked  up  in  a  chest. 
And  lo,  here  our  Dobinet  cometh  with  it  now.  70 

[Re-enter  DOBINET. 
D.  Douyhtie.  It  will  cover  me  to  the  shoulders  well 

enow. 

M.  Mery.  Let  me  see  it  on. 

R.  Roister.  In  faith,  it  doth  metely  well. 

M.  Mery.  There  can  be  no  fitter  thing.    Now  ye 

must  us  tell 
What  to  do. 

R.  Roister.    Now  forth  in  ray,  sirs,  and  stop  no 

more ! 

M.  Mery.  Now,  Saint  George  to  borrow,  drum  dub- 
a-dub  afore !  75 

T.   Trustie.    What   mean  you  to  do,  sir,  commit 
manslaughter  ? 


SC*:NA  VII]   RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  137 

R.  Roister.  To  kill  forty  such  is  a  matter  of  laugh- 
ter. 
T.  Tmstie.  And  who  is  it,  sir,  whom  ye  intend  thus 

to  spill? 
R.    Roister.    Foolish   Custance    here    forceth  me 

against  my  will. 

T.   Tmstie.  And  is  there  no  mean  your  extreme 

wrath  to  slake  ?  80 

She  shall  some  amends  unto  your  good  maship  make. 

R.  Roister.  I  will  none  amends. 

T.  Tmstie.  Is  her  offence  so  sore  ? 

M.  Mery.  And  he  were  a  lout  she  could  have  done 

no  more. 
She  hath  called  him  fool,  and   dressed  him  like  a 

fool, 

Mocked  him  like  a  fool,  used  him  like  a  fool.  85 

T.   Tmstie.  Well,  yet  the  sheriff,  the  justice,  or 

constable, 
Her  misdemeanour  to  punish  might  be  able. 

R.  Roister.  No,  sir,  I  mine  own  self  will,  in  this 

present  cause, 

Be  sheriff,  and  justice,  and  whole  judge  of  the  laws ; 
This  matter  to  amend,  all  officers  be  I  shall, 

Constable,  bailiff,  sergeant. 

M.  Mery.  And  hangman  and  all.     90 

T.  Tmstie.  Yet  a  noble  courage,  and  the  heart  of 

a  man, 

Should  more  honour  win  by  bearing  with  a  woman. 
Therefore  take  the  law,  and  let  her  answer  thereto. 
R.  Roister.  Merygreeke,  the  best  way  were  even 

so  to  do. 

What  honour  should  it  be  with  a  woman  to  fight?  95 
M.  Mery.  And  what  then,  will  ye  thus  forgo  and 
lese  your  right  ? 


138  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [Acros  IV 

R.  Roister.  Nay,  I  will  take  the  law  on  her  with- 

outen  grace. 
T.  Trustie.  Or,  if  your  maship  could  pardon  this 

one  trespass, 
I  pray  you  forgive  her ! 
It.  Roister.  Ho ! 

M.  Mary.  Tush,  tush,  sir,  do  not ! 

Be  good,  master,  to  her. 

R.  Roister.  Hoh ! 

M.  Mery.  Tush,  I  say,  do  not.  100 

And   what !    shall   your  people  here  return  straight 

home  ? 
T.   Trustie.    Yea,  levy  the  camp,  sirs,  and  hence 

again  each  one. 
R.  Roister.  But  be  still  in  readiness,  if  I  hap  to 

call. 
I  cannot  tell  what  sudden  chance  may  befall. 

M.  Mery.  Do  not  off  your  harness,  sirs,  I  you  ad- 
vise, 105 
At  the  least  for  this  fortnight  in  no  manner  wise. 
Perchance  in  an  hour,  when  all  ye  think  least, 
Our  master's  appetite  to  fight  will  be  best. 
But  soft,  ere  ye  go,  have  one  at  Custance'  house. 
R.  Roister.  Soft,  what  wilt  thou  do  ? 
M.  Mery.                Once  discharge  my  harquebouse, 
And,  for  my  heart's  ease,  have  once  more  with  my 
potgun.                                                                 Ill 
R.  Roister.  Hold  thy  hands,  else  is  all  our  purpose 

clean  fordone. 

M.  Mery.  And  it  cost  me  my  life. 
R.  Roister.  I  say,  thou  shalt  not. 

M.  Mery.  By  the  Matte,  but  I  will.  Have  once  more 

with  hail  shot. 
I  will  have  some  pennyworth,  I  will  not  lese  all.     115 


SOENA  VIII]   RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  139 


ACTUS  IV,   SC^NA  VIII 

M.  MEHYGREEKE.  C.  CUSTANCE.  R.  ROISTER.  TIB.  TALK.  AN. 
ALYFACE.  M.  MUMBLECRUST.  TRUPENIE.  DOBINET  DOUGH- 
TIE.  HAKPAX.  Two  drums  with  their  ensigns. 

C.  distance.  What  caitiffs  are  those  that  so  shake 

my  house  wall  ? 
M.  Mery.  Ah,  sirrah !  now,  distance,  if  ye  had  so 

much  wit, 

I  would  see  you  ask  pardon,  and  yourselves  submit. 
C.  distance.  Have  I  still  this  ado  with  a  couple  of 

fools? 

M.  Mcrtj.  Hear  ye  what  she  saith  ? 
C.  distance.  Maidens  come  forth  with  your  tools !  5 
11.  Roister.  In  array  ! 
M.  Mery.  Dubbadub,  sirrah! 

R.  Roister.  In  array  ! 

They  come  suddenly  on  us. 

M.  Mery.  Dubbadub ! 

R.  Roister.  In  array! 

That  ever  I  was  born,  we  are  taken  tardy. 

M.  Mery.  Now,  sirs,  quit  ourselves  like  tall  men 

and  hardy ! 

C.  distance.  On  afore,  Trupenie  !  Hold  thine  own, 
Annot!  10 

On  toward  them,  Tibet !  for  'scape  us  they  cannot ! 
Come  forth,  Madge  Mumblecrust,  to   stand  fast  to- 
gether ! 

M.  Mery.  God  send  us  a  fair  day ! 
R.  Roister.  See,  they  march  on  hither ! 

Tib.  Talk.  But,  mistress 

C.  distance.  What  sayest  thou  ? 

Tib.  Talk.  Shall  I  go  fet  our  goose  ? 


140  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [Acxus  IV 

C.  distance.  What  to  do  ? 

Tib.  Talk.  To  yonder  captain  I  will  turn  her  loose, 
And  she  gape  and  hiss  at  him,  as  she  doth  at  me,  16 
I  durst  jeopard  my  hand  she  will  make  him  flee. 

C.  distance.  On  forward! 

R.  Roister.  They  come ! 

M.  Mery.  Stand ! 

R.  Roister.  Hold ! 

M.  Mery.  Keep ! 

R.  Roister.  There ! 

M.  Mery.  Strike  ! 

R.  Roister.  Take  heed  ! 

C.  distance.  Well  said,  Trupenie ! 

Trupenie.  Ah,  whoresons ! 

C.  Custance.  Well  done,  indeed. 

M.  Mery.  Hold  thine  own,  Harpax !  down  with 
them,  Dobinet!  20 

C.  Custance.  Now  Madge,  there  Annot !  now  stick 

them,  Tibet ! 
Tib.  Talk.  All  my  chief  quarrel   is  to  this  same 

little  knave, 
That  beguiled  me  last  day  —  nothing  shall  him  save. 

D.  Dotightie.  Down  with  this  little  quean,  that  hath 

at  me  such  spite  ! 
Save  you  from  her,  master  —  it  is  a  very  sprite  !      25 

C.  Custance.  I  myself  will  Mounsire  Grand  Cap- 
tain undertake. 

R.  Roister.  They  win  ground! 

M.  Mery.  Save  yourself,  sir,  for  God's  sake ! 

R.  Roister.  Out,  alas!  I  am  slain  !  Help! 

M.  Mery.  Save  yourself ! 

R.  Roister.  Alas ! 

M.  Mery.  Nay,  then,  have  at  you,  mistress  ! 

R.  Roister.  Thou  hittest  me,  alas ! 


VIII]  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  141 

M.  Mery.  I  will  strike  at  distance  here. 
R.  Roister.  Thou  hittest  me  ! 

M.  Mery.  So  I  will !  30 

Nay,  mistress  Custance ! 

R.  Roister.  Alas!  thou  hittest  me  still. 

Hold. 

M.  Mery.  Save  yourself,  sir. 

R.  Roister.  Help  !  Out,  alas  !  I  am  slain  ! 

M.  Mery.  Truce,  hold  your  hands,  truce  for  a  piss- 
ing while  or  twain ! 

Nay,  how  say  you,  Custance,  for  saving  of  your  life, 
Will  ye  yield  and  grant  to  be  this  gentman's  wife?  35 
C.  Custance.  Ye  told  me  he  loved  me  —  call  ye  this 

love? 

M.  Mery.  He  loved    a   while   even   like  a  turtle- 
dove. 
C.  Custance.  Gay  love,  God  save  it !  —  so  soon  hot, 

so  soon  cold. 
M.  Mery.  I  am  sorry  for  you  —  he  could  love  you 

yet,  so  he  could. 

R.  Roister.  Nay,  by  Cock's  precious,  she  shall  be 
none  of  mine  !  40 

M.  Mery.  Why  so? 
R.  Roister.  Come  away !  by  the  Matte,  she  is  nian- 

kine. 

I  durst  adventure  the  loss  of  my  right  hand, 
If  she  did  not  slee  her  other  husband, — 
And  see  if  she  prepare  not  again  to  fight ! 

M.  Mery.  What  then?  Saint  George  to  borrow,  our 

ladies'  knight !  45 

R.  Roister.  Slee  else  whom  she  will,  by  Gog,  she 

shall  not  slee  me ! 
M.  Mery.  How  then  ? 
R.  Roister.  Rather  than  to  be  slain,  1  will  flee. 


142  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER      [Acxus  IV 

C.  Custance.  To  it  again,  my  knightesses!  Down 

with  them  all ! 
R.  Roister.  Away,  away,  away !  she  will  else  kill 

us  all. 
M.  Mery.  Nay,  stick  to  it,  like  an  hardy  man  and 

a  tall.  50 

R.  Roister.  Oh  bones,  thou  hittest  me !  Away,  or 

else  die  we  shall. 
M.  Mery.  Away,  for  the  pashe  of  our  sweet  Lord 

Jesus  Christ. 
C.  Custance.  Away,  lout  and  lubber,  or  I  shall  be 

thy  priest.  [Exeant  om. 

So  this  field  is  ours,  we  have  driven  them  all  away. 
Tib.  Talk.  Thanks  to  God,  mistress,  ye  have  had  a 
fair  day.  55 

C.  Custance.  Well,  now  go  ye  in,  and  make  your- 
self some  good  cheer. 
Omnes  pariter.1  We  go. 

T.  Trustie.  Ah,  sir,  what  a  field  we  have  had  here ! 
C.  Custance.   Friend  Tristram,  I   pray  you  be  a 

witness  with  me. 
T.  Trustie.   Dame  Custance,  I    shall  depose   for 

your  honesty, 

And   now   fare   ye   well,   except   something  else  ye 

would.  60 

C.  Custance.  Not  now,  but  when  I  need  to  send  I 

will  be  bold.  [Exeat. 

I  thank  you  for  these  pains.  And  now  I  will  get  me 

in. 
Now  Roister  Doister  will  no  more  wooing  begin.   [Ex. 

1  All  with  one  accord. 


SCJSNA  I]        RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  143 

ACTUS   V,   SCJENA  I 

GAWYN  GOODLUCK.    SYM  SUKESBY. 

G.  Good.  Sym  Suresby,  my  trusty  man,  now  advise 

thee  well, 

And  see  that  no  false  surmises  thou  me  tell. 
Was  there  such  ado  about  Custanee  of  a  truth  ? 

Sym  Sure.  To  report  that  I  heard  and  saw,  to  me 

is  ruth, 

But  both  my  duty  and  name  and  property  5 

Warneth  me  to  you  to  show  fidelity. 
It  may  be  well  enough,  and  I  wish  it  so  to  be ; 
She  may  herself  discharge,  and  try  her  honesty  — 
Yet  their  claim  to  her  methought  was  very  large, 
For   with   letters,  rings    and   tokens,    they   did  her 

charge,  10 

Which  when  I  heard  and  saw  I  would  none  to  you 

bring. 
G.  Good.  No,  by  Saint  Marie,  I  allow  thee  in  that 

thing. 

Ah,  sirrah,  now  I  see  truth  in  the  proverb  old, 
All  things  that  shineth  is  not  by  and  by  pure  gold ! 
If  any  do  live  a  woman  of  honesty,  15 

I  would  have  sworn  Christian  distance  had  been  she. 
Sym  Sure.  Sir,  though  I  to  you  be  a  servant  true 

and  just, 

Yet  do  not  ye  therefore  your  faithful  spouse  mistrust. 
But  examine  the  matter,  and  if  ye  shall  it  find 
To  be  all  well,  be  not  ye  for  my  words  unkind.         20 
G.  Good.  I   shall  do  that  is  right,  and  as  I  see 

cause  why  — 
But  here  cometh  Custanee  forth,  we  shall  know  by 

and  by. 


144  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER        [Acxus  V 

ACTUS  V,   SCLENA  II 

C.  CUSTANCE.    GAWYN  GOODLUCK.    SYM  SUKESBY. 

C.  distance.  I  come  forth  to  see  and  hearken  for 

news  good, 

For  about  this  hour  is  the  time  of  likelihood, 
That  Gawyn  Goodluck  by  the  sayings  of  Suresby 
Would  be  at  home,  and  lo,  yond  I  see  him,  I ! 
What !  Gawyu  Goodluck,  the  only  hope  of  my  life  !    5 
Welcome  home,  and  kiss  me,  your  true  espoused  wife. 
G.  Good.  Nay,  soft,  dame  distance ;  I  must  first, 

by  your  licence, 

See  whether  all  things  be  clear  in  your  conscience. 
I  hear  of  your  doings  to  me  very  strange. 

C.    distance.  What !  fear  ye  that  my  faith  towards 

you  should  change?  10 

G.   Good.    I  must  needs  mistrust  ye  be  elsewhere 

entangled, 

For  I  hear  that  certain  men  with  you  have  wrangled 

About  the  promise  of  marriage  by  you  to  them  made. 

C.    Custance.  Could  any  man's  report  your  mind 

therein  persuade? 

G.   Good.   Well,  ye  must  therein  declare  yourself 

to  stand  clear,  15 

Else  I  and  you,   dame  Custance,  may  not  join  this 

year. 
C.    Custance.  Then  would  I  were  dead,  and  fair 

laid  in  my  grave  ! 

Ah,  Suresby,  is  this  the  honesty  that  ye  have, 
To  hurt  me  with  your  report,  not  knowing  the  thing? 
Sym  Sure.  If  ye  be  honest,  my  words  can  hurt 
you  nothing,  20 

But  what  I  heard  and  saw,  I  might  not  but  report. 


III]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  145 

C.   distance.  Ah,  Lord,  help  poor  widows,  desti- 
tute of  comfort ! 
Truly,  most  dear  spouse,  nought  was  done  but  for 

pastance. 
G.   Good.  But  such  kind  of  sporting  is  homely 

dalliance. 

O.    Custance.  If  ye  knew  the  truth,  ye  would  take 

all  in. good  part.  25 

G.   Good.   By   your   leave,    I    am    not   half   well 

skilled  in  that  art. 
C.    Custance.  It   was   none  but   Roister  Doister, 

that  foolish  mome. 
G.   Good.  Yea,  distance,  better,  they  say,  a  bad 

'scuse  than  none. 
C.    Custance.  Why,    Tristram    Trustie,  sir,    your 

true  and  faithful  friend, 

Was  privy  both  to  tlie  beginning  and  the  end.          30 
Let  him  be  the  judge,  and  for  me  testify. 

G.  Good.  I  will  the  more  credit  that  he  shall  verify, 
And  because  I  will  the  truth  know  e'en  as  it  is, 
I  will  to  him  myself,  and  know  all  without  miss. 
Come  on,  Sym  Suresby,  that  before  my  friend  thou 
may  35 

Avouch  the  same  words,  which  thou  didst  to  me  say. 

[Exeant. 

ACTUS   V,   SC^NA  III 

CHRISTIAN  CUSTANCE. 

C.  Custance.  O  Lord !  Low  necessary  it  is  now  of 

days 

That  each  body  live  uprightly  all  manner  ways, 
For  let  never  so  little  a  gap  be  open, 
And  be  sure  of  this,  the  worst  shall  be  spoken. 


146  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER        [Acrus  V 

How  innocent  stand  I  in  this  for  deed  or  thought,     5 

O  * 

And  yet  see  what  mistrust  towards  me  it  hath  wrought ! 
But  thou,  Lord,  knowest  all  folks'  thoughts  and  eke 

intents, 

And  thou  art  the  deliverer  of  all  innocents. 
Thou  didst  help  the  advoutress,  that  she  might  be 

amended,  9 

Much  more  then  help,  Lord,  that  never,  ill  intended. 
Thou  didst  help  Susanna,  wrongfully  accused, 
And  no  less  dost  thou   see,  Lord,  how  I  am  now 

abused. 

Thou  didst  help  Hester,  when  she  should  have  died, 
Help  also,  good  Lord,  that  my  truth  may  be  tried. 
Yet   if    Gawyn    Goodluck    with    Tristram    Trustie 

speak,  15 

I  trust  of  ill  report  the  force  shall  be  but  weak. 
And  lo,  yond  they  come,  sadly  talking  together, 
I  will  abide,  and  not  shrink  for  their  coming  hither. 


ACTUS  V,  SC^ENA  IV 

GAWYN  GOODLUCK.    TRISTRAM  TRUSTIE.    C.  CUSTANCE.    SYM 
SURESBY. 

G.   Good.  And  was  it  none  other  than  ye  to  me 

report  ? 
Tristram.  No,  and  here  were  ye  wished  to  have 

seen  the  sport. 
G.    Good.  Would  I  had,  rather  than  half  of  that 

in  my  purse! 
Sym  Sure.  And  I  do  much  rejoice  the  matter  was 

no  worse, 

And  like  as  to  open  it  I  was  to  you  faithful,  5 

So  of  dame  Custance'  honest  truth  I  am  joyful, 


IV]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  147 

For  God  forfend  that  I  should  hurt  her  by  false  re- 
port. 

G.   Good.  Well,  I  will  no  longer  hold  her  in  dis- 
comfort. 
C.    Custance.  Now  come  they  hitherward,  I  trust 

all  shall  be  well. 

G.   Good.  Sweet  Custance,  neither  heart  can  think 
nor  tongue  tell,  10 

How  much  I  joy  in  your  constant  fidelity ! 
Come  now,  kiss  me,  the  pearl  of  perfect  honesty. 
C.    Custance.  God  let  me  no  longer  to  continue  in 

life, 
Than  I  shall  towards  you  continue  a  true  wife. 

G.   Good.  Well,  now  to  make  you  for  this  some 
part  of  amends,  15 

I  shall  desire  first  you,  and  then  such  of  our  friends 
As  shall  to  you  seem  best,  to  sup  at  home  with 

me, 
Where  at  your  fought  field  we  shall  laugh  and  merry 

be. 
Sym  Sure.  And  mistress,  I  beseech  you,  take  with 

me  no  grief ; 

I  did  a  true  man's  part,  not  wishing  you  reprief.     20 
C.  Custance.  Though  hasty  reports,  through  sur- 
mises growing, 

May  of  poor  innocents  be  utter  overthrowing, 
Yet  because  to  thy  master  thou  hast  a  true  heart, 
And  I  know  mine  own  truth,  I  forgive  thee  for  my 

part. 

G.  Good.  Go  we  all  to  my  house,  and  of  this  gear 

no  more.  25 

Go,  prepare  all  things,   Sym    Suresby ;  hence,  run 

afore. 
Sym  Sure.  I  go.  [Ex. 


148 

G.    Good.    But   who  cometh   yond,  —  M.   Mery- 

greeke? 
C.  Custance.  Roister  Doister's  champion,  I  shrew 

his  best  cheek ! 
T.   Trustie.    Roister  Doister  self,  your  wooer,   is 

with  him  too. 
Surely  some  thing  there  is  with  us  they  have  to  do.  30 


ACTUS  V,  SCLENA  V 

M.  MERYGREEKE.    RALPH  ROISTER.    GAWYN  GOODLUCK. 
TRISTRAM  TRUSTIE.     C.  CUSTANCE. 

M.  Mery.  Yond  I  see  Gawyn  Goodluck,  to  whom 

lieth  my  message  ; 

I  will  first  salute  him  after  his  long  voyage, 
And  then  make  all  thing  well  concerning  your  behalf. 
R.  Roister.  Yea,  for  the  pash  of  God. 
M.  Mery.  Hence  out  of  sight,  ye  calf, 

Till  I  have  spoke  with  them,  and  then  I  will  you  fet.  5 
R.  Roister.  In  God's  name  !  [Exit  R.  ROISTER. 

M.  Mery.  What,  master    Gawyn    Goodluck,  well 

met! 
And  from  your  long  voyage  I  bid  you  right  welcome 

home. 

G.  Good.  I  thank  you. 

M.  Mery.        I  come  to  you  from  an  honest  mome. 
G.  Good.  Who  is  that? 

M.  Mery.  Roister  Doister,  that  doughty  kite. 

C.  Custance.  Fie !  I  can  scarce  abide  ye  should  his 

name  recite.  10 

M.  Mery.  Ye  must  take  him  to  favour,  and  pardon 

all  past ; 
He  heareth  of  your  return,  and  is  full  ill  aghast. 


SOENA  VI]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  149 

G.  Good.  I  am  right  well  content  he  have  with  us 

some  cheer. 
C.  Custance.  Fie  upon  him,  beast !  then  will  not 

I  be  there. 
G'  Good.  Why,  distance,  do  ye  hate  him  more 

than  ye  love  me  ?  15 

C.   Custance.   But  for  your  mind,  sir,  where  he 

were  would  I  not  be. 
T.  Trustie.  He  would  make  us  all  laugh. 
M.  Mery.  Ye  ne'er  had  better  sport. 

G.  Good.  I  pray  you,  sweet  Custance,  let  him  to 

us  resort. 

C.  Custance.  To  your  will  I  assent. 
M.  Mery.  Why,  such  a  fool  it  is, 

As  no  man  for  good  pastime  would  forgo  or  miss.    20 
G.  Good.  Fet  him  to  go  with  us. 
M.  Mery.  He  will  be  a  glad  man.  [Ex. 

T.  Trustie.  We  must  to  make  us  mirth,  maintain 

him  all  we  can. 

And  lo,  yond  he  cometh,  and  Merygreeke  with  him. 
C.  Custance.  At  his  first  entrance  ye  shall  see  I 

will  him  trim. 

But  first  let  us  hearken  the  gentleman's  wise  talk.  25 
T.  Trustie.  I  pray  you,  mark,  if  ever  ye  saw  crane 

so  stalk. 

ACTUS  V,   SOENA  VI 

R.  ROISTER.    M.  MERYGREEKE.    C.  CUSTANCE.    G.  GOODLUCK. 
T.  TRUSTIE.     D.  DOUGHTIE.    HARPAX. 

R.  Roister.  May  I  then  be  bold  ? 
M.  Mery.  I.  warrant  you,  on  my  word, 

They  say  they  shall  be  sick,  but  ye  be  at  their  board. 
R.  Roister.  They  were  not  angry,  then  ? 


150  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER        [Acxus  V 

M,  Mery.  Yes,  at  first,  and  made  strange, 

But  when  I  said  your  anger  to  favour  should  change, 
And  therewith  had  commended  you  accordingly,       5 
They  were  all  in  love  with  your  maship  by  and  by, 
And  cried  you  mercy  that  they  had  done  you  wrong. 
R.  Roister.  For  why  no   man,  woman,  nor  child 

can  hate  me  long. 
M.  Mery.    "  We  fear,"   quod   they,    "  he  will    be 

avenged  one  day, 

Then  for  a  penny  give  all  our  lives  we  may."  10 

R.  Roister.  Said  they  so  indeed  ? 
M.  Mery.    Did  they  ?  yea,  even  with  one  voice  — 
"  He  will  forgive  all,"  quod  I.    Oh,  how  they  did  re- 
joice ! 

R.  Roister.  Ha,  ha,  ha! 
M.  Mery.  "  Go  fet  him,"  say  they,  "  while  he  is  in 

good  mood, 
For  have  his  anger  who   lust,  we  will  not,  by  the 

Rood." 

R.  Roister.  I  pray  God  that  it  be  all  true,  that 
thou  hast  me  told,  15 

And  that  she  fight  no  more. 

M.  Mery.  I  warrant  you,  be  bold. 

To  them,  and  salute  them  ! 

R.  Roister,  Sirs,  I  greet  you  all  well ! 

Omnes.  Your  mastership  is  welcome. 
C.  distance.  Saving  my  quarrel  — 

For  sure  I  will  put  you  up  into  the  Exchequer. 
M.  Mery.  Why  so  ?  better  nay  —  wherefore  ? 
C.  distance.  For  an  usurer.  20 

R.  Roister.  I  am  no  usurer,  good  mistress,  by  His 

arms ! 

M.  Mery.   When  took   he  gain  of  money  to  any 
man's  harms  ? 


VI]     RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  151 

C.  distance.  Yes,  a  foul  usurer  he  is,  ye  shall  see 

else. 
R.  Roister.  Didst  not  thou  promise  she  would  pick 

no  mo  quarrels  ? 
C.  distance.  He  will  lend  no  blows,  but  he  have 

in  recompense  25 

Fifteen  for  one,  which  is  too  much  of  conscience. 
R.  Roister.  Ah,  dame,  by  the  ancient  law  of  arms, 

a  man 
Hath  no  honour  to  foil  his  hands  on  a  woman. 

C.  distance.  And  where  other  usurers  take  their 

gains  yearly, 

This  man  is  angry  but  he  have  his  by  and  by.          30 
G.  Good.  Sir,  do  not  for  her  sake  bear  me  your 

displeasure. 
M.  Mery.  Well,  he  shall  with  you  talk  thereof  more 

at  leisure. 

Upon  your  good  usage,  he  will  now  shake  your  hand. 
R.  Roister.    And  much  heartily  welcome  from  a 

strange  land. 
M.  Mery.  Be  not  afeard,  Gawyn,  to  let  him  shake 

your  fist.  35 

G.  Good.  Oh,  the  most  honest  gentleman  that  e'er 

I  wist. 

I  beseech  your  maship  to  take  pain  to  sup  with  us. 
M.  Mery.  He  shall  not  say  you  nay,  and  I  too,  by 

Jesus, 

Because  ye  shall  be  friends,  and  let  all  quarrels  pass. 
R.  Roister.  I  will  be  as  good  friends  with  them  as 

ere  I  was.  40 

M.  Mery.  Then  let  me  fet  your  quire  that  we  may 

have  a  song. 
R.  Roister.    Go.  [Exit  M.  MERY. 

G.  Good.  I  have  heard  no  melody  all  this  year  long. 


152  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER        [Acxus  V 

Re-enter  M.  MERY. 

M.  Mery.  Come  on,  sirs,  quickly. 
R.  Roister.         Sing  on,  sirs,  for  my  friends'  sake. 
D.  Dough.  Call  ye  these  your  friends  ? 
R.  Roister.  Sing  on,  and  no  mo  words  make. 

[Here  they  sing. 

G.  Good.  The  Lord  preserve  our  most  noble  Queen 
of  renown,  45 

And  her  virtues  reward  with  the  heavenly  crown. 
C.  distance.  The  Lord  strengthen  her  most  excel- 
lent Majesty, 
Long  to  reign  over  us  in  all  prosperity. 

T.  Trustie.  That  her  godly  proceedings  the  faith 

to  defend, 

He  may  'stablish  and  maintain  through  to  the  end.  50 
M.  Mery.  God  grant  her,  as  she  doth,  the  Gospel 

to  protect, 

Learning  and  virtue  to  advance,  and  vice  to  correct. 
R.  Roister.    God  grant  her  loving  subjects  both 

the  mind  and  grace, 

Her  most  godly  proceedings  worthily  to  embrace. 
Harpax.    Her  highness'  most  worthy  counsellors, 
God  prosper  55 

With  honour  and  love  of  all  men  to  minister. 

Omnes.  God  grant  the  nobility  her  to  serve  and 

love, 
With  all  the  whole  commonty  as  doth  them  behove. 

AMEN 


RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  153 

CERTAIN  SONGS  TO  BE  SUNG  BY  THOSE  WHICH 
SHALL  USE  THIS  COMEDY  OR  INTERLUDE. 

The  Second  Sony. 

Whoso  to  marry  a  minion  wife, 

Hath  had  good  chance  and  hap, 
Must  love  her  and  cherish  her  all  his  life, 

And  dandle  her  in  his  lap.' 

If  she  will  fare  well,  if  she  will  go  gay,  5 

A  good  husband  ever  still, 
Whatever  she  lust  to  do,  or  to  say, 

Must  let  her  have  her  own  will. 

About  what  affairs  soever  he  go, 

He  must  show  her  all  his  mind.  10 

None  of  his  counsel  she  may  be  kept  fro, 

Else  is  he  a  man  unkind. 

The  Fourth  Song. 

I  mun  be  married  a  Sunday, 
I  mun  be  married  a  Sunday, 
Whosoever  shall  come  that  way, 
I  mun  be  married  a  Sunday. 

Roister  Doister  is  my  name,  5 

Roister  Doister  is  my  name, 
A  lusty  brute  I  am  the  same, 
I  mun  be  married  a  Sunday. 

Christian  distance  have  I  found, 
Christian  Custance  have  I  found,  10 

A  widow  worth  a  thousand  pound, 
I  mun  be  married  a  Sunday. 


154  RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER 

distance  is  as  sweet  as  honey, 

Custance  is  as  sweet  as  honey, 

I  her  lamb  and  she  my  coney,  15 

I  mun  be  married  a  Sunday. 

When  we  shall  make  our  wedding  feast, 
When  we  shall  make  our  wedding  feast, 
There  shall  be  cheer  for  man  and  beast, 
I  mun  be  married  a  Sunday.  20 

I  mun  be  married  a  Sunday,  etc. 

The  Psalmody. 

Placebo  dilexi, 

Master  Roister  Doister  will  straight  go  home  and  die, 
Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  his  soul  have  mercy  upon ! 
Thus  you  see  to-day  a  man,  to-morrow  John. 

Yet  saving  for  a  woman's  extreme  cruelty, 
He  might  have  lived  yet  a  month  or  two  or  three,      5 
But  in  spite  of  Custance  which  hath  him  wearied, 
His  maship  shall  be  worshipfully  buried. 
And  while  some  piece  of  his  soul  is  yet  him  within, 
Some  part  of  his  funerals  let  us  here  begin. 

Dirige.  He  will  go  darkling  to  his  grave.  10 

Neque  lux,  neque  crux,  nisi  solum  clink, 
Never  gentman  so  went  toward  heaven,  I  think. 

Yet,  sirs,  as  ye  will  the  bliss  of  heaven  win, 
When  he  cometh  to  the  grave  lay  him  softly  in, 
And  all  men  take  heed  by  this  one  gentleman,          15 
How  you  set  your  love  upon  an  unkind  woman : 
For  these  women  be  all  such  mad  peevish  elves, 
They  will  not  be  won  except  it  please  themselves. 
But  in  faith,  Custance,  if  ever  ye  come  in  hell, 
Master  Roister  Doister  shall  serve  you  as  well.         20 


RALPH  ROISTER  DOISTER  155 

Good  night,  Roger  old  knave;  farewell,  Roger  old 

knave. 

Good  night,  Roger  old  knave,  knave,  knap. 
Nequando.     Audim  vocem.     Requiem  ceternam. 

THE  PEAL  OF  BELLS  RUNG  BY  THE  PARISH 
CLERK  AND  ROISTER  DOISTER'S  FOUR  MEN. 

The  first  Bell  a  Triple.  When  died  he?  When  died 

he? 

Tlie  second.  We  have  him,  we  have  him. 
The  third.  Roister  Doister,  Roister  Doister. 
The  fourth  Bell.  He  cometh,  he  cometh. 
The  great  Bell.  Our  own,  our  own. 


NOTES 

Dramatis  Personae  :  For  the  use  of  allusive  names,  see  the 
note  on  i.  1.  17-26.  The  name  Harpax  is  taken  from  the 
Pseudolus.  Alyface,  according  to  Fliigel,  indicates  the  color  of 
Aunot's  nose  and  the  desire  of  her  heart.  But  she  is  undoubtedly 
intended  to  be  young  and  good-looking,  at  least  enough  to  win 
Ralph's  approval. 

Prologue,  4  f.  Perhaps  imitated  from  the  prologue  of  the 
Captivi. 

8  ff.  A  commonplace  in  early  works  on  medicine. 

15  ff.  The  doctrine,  repeatedly  affirmed  by  classical  authors, 
that  it  is  the  mission  of  the  poet  to  teach  and  to  please,  was 
seized  upon,  reinforced,  and  reiterated  by  Renaissance  writers  — 
in  England,  for  example,  by  Stephen  Hawes  and  in  various 
works  expounding  or  defending  the  art  of  poetry.  The  theme  is 
treated  (at  greater  length)  in  the  Prologue  to  Jack  Juggler,  but 
the  fact  argues  no  basis  for  argument  regarding  indebtedness  or 
priority. 

20  :  bears  the  bell.  Act  as  bell-wethers  or  leaders  of  the 
flock.  For  the  vogue  of  Plautus  and  Terence  at  the  time  of  the 
play,  see  the  Introduction.  The  form  of  the  verb,  with  s  though 
plural,  frequently  found  in  Standard  English  in  the  sixteenth 
century,  is  either  Northern  or  a  levelling  from  the  singular. 

22.  Note  the  pairing  of  the  familiar  term  interlude  with  the 
less  familiar  comedy. 

i.  1  ff.  Cf .  Plautus,  Miles  Gloriosus,  v.  31  ff.,  Terence,  Eunuchus, 
n,  ii.  252  ff.  [Fliigel]. 

i.  1.  15  ff.  The  parasite  in  the  Asinaria  (v.  3)  is  quoted  as  hav- 
ing a  long  line  of  patrons  with  whom  he  may  dine  out. 

i.  1. 17-26.  Allusive  names  appear  frequently  in  English  works 
from  the  fourteenth  century.  Udall's  use  of  them  in  his  play 
may  have  been  suggested  by  their  general  use  in  classical  comedy. 
Loytrer  has  the  obsolete  sense  of  "  time-waster,  idler."  Titivile, 
originally  the  name  of  an  inferior  devil  of  the  miracle  plays,  had 
become  a  typical  name  for  a  worthless  hanger-on.  Pye  suggested 
a  chattering  gossip,  also  a  shrewd  and  cunning  person  ;  Blinkiu- 


158  NOTES  [ACTUS  I 

soppe,  one  who  spends  his  time  blinking  into  his  glass  ;  Hoddy- 
dodie,  various  contemptuous  meanings  including  one  squat  and 
dumpy,  a  simpleton  and  a  cuckold. 

i.  1.  38  :  Queen's  peace.  Presumably  changed  from  King's 
when  the  play  was  printed  in  Elizabeth's  time.  Cf.  v.  6.  45  if. 

i.  1.  56.  A  proverbial  expression  for  undertaking  a  risky 
Venture. 

i.  1.  66  :  for  twenty  pound.  "I  would  wager  twenty  pound 
on  it." 

i.  2.  2  :  you.  Merygreeke  generally  uses  ye,  you  in  ironical 
deference,  Roister  Doister  the  thou,  thee,  marking  familiarity 
or  social  superiority  to  the  person  addressed. 

i.  2.  14  :  thee.  Manly's  emendation  for  the. 

i.  2.  28-32.  Cf.  Terence,  Phormio,  i.  4.  210  f. 

i.  2.  39.  Cf.  Miles  Gloriosus,  v.  1063. 

i.  2.  41  :  But  .  .  .  matter.  Not  assigned  to  Roister  Doister  in 
original  text. 

i.  2.  47  :  ye  emended  from  he. 

i.  2  :  a.  Manly  prints  "  (a !)  "  as  if  an  interjection.  Fliigel 
explains  the  a  as  a  preposition,  the  unstressed  form  of  ou.  The 
preferable  view  is  that  the  line  is  a  quotation  from  some  old 
song,  and  the  a  merely  expletive  —  as  more  often  found  at  the 
end  of  the  line,  e.g.,  "  your  sad  tires  in  a  mile-a." 

i.  2.  59.  Apparently  quoting  Roister  Doister  as  phrasing  his 
feeling. 

i.  2.  80.  "  Nay,  '  unwise  '  [you  may  be]  perhaps,  but  I  warrant 
you  against  '  mad.'"  For,  in  the  sense  of  "  against  "  appears 
with  nouns,  "  for  sight,"  "  for  drowning,"  "  shelter  for  sun  and 
wind  "  (see  N.  E.  D.).  Merygreeke's  attention  is  fastened  on 
the  word  Roister  Doister  uses. 

i.  2.  97.  A  current  proverbial  saying ;  Hey  wood  includes  it  in 
his  Proverbs. 

i.  2.  106-146.  A  similar  list  of  heroic  comparisons  closely  re- 
sembling Udall's  occurs  in  the  little  school-dialogue  of  Thersites 
and  has  even  caused  the  suggestion  to  be  made  that  Udall  was 
the  author.  The  passage  is  modelled  on  the  Allies  Gloriosus, 
i.  1.  55-71.  The  only  heroic  comparison  in  the  Latin  comedy  is 
contained  in  the  words  "  '  Is  Achilles  here  ?  '  says  one  to  me. 
'  No,'  says  I,  '  his  brother  is.' "  But  the  passage  concerning  the 
admiration  of  the  ladies  for  Udall  is  plainly  a  reminiscence  of 
the  Latin  play. 


IV]  NOTES  159 

i.  2.  118-129.  Lancelot  du  Lake,  Gny  of  Warwick,  and  Col- 
brande  with  whom  Guy  fought,  are  famous  personages  in  well- 
knowii  romances.  The  phrase  "  thirteenth  Hercules  brother  " 
apparently  means  "  the  thirteenth  brother  of  Hercules  "  (hence 
the  apostrophe  after  Hercules  in  the  text)  in  allusion  to  Hercules 
as  one  of  the  twelve  children  of  Jupiter,  though  their  number 
is  sometimes  stated  as  thirteen.  "  A  brute  of  the  Alie  Land," 
that  is  "  hero  of  the  Holy  Land,"  identifies  Roister  Doister  with 
the  many  valiant  warriors  who  fought  against  the  Saracens  in 
historic  tradition  and  romance.  The  "  nine  worthies,"  as  usually 
reckoned,  include  Hector,  Alexander,  and  Csesar  from  among 
"  Paynims "  ;  the  Jewish  heroes,  Joshua,  David,  and  Judas 
Maccabeus  ;  and  the  Christian  heroes,  Arthur,  Charlemagne, 
and  Godfrey  of  Boulogne.  The  phrase  "  third  Cato,"  in  praise 
of  Roister  Doister's  wisdom,  in  allusion  to  Cato  the  Censor  and 
Cato  of  Utica,  may  have  been  suggested  by  the  line  of  Juvenal 
(Sat.  2.  40)  "  Tertius  e  cselo  cecidit  Cato." 

i.  2.  120.  Cf.  Plautus,  Miles  Gloriosus,  61  :  "  hiciue  Achilles 
est  ?  inqiiit  mihi.  Immo  eius  frater  inquam." 

i.  2.  135.  Cf.  Plantus,  Miles  Gloriosus,  65. 

i.  2. 173  :  here  added  by  Cooper. 

i.  3.  51  :  Pipe,  merry  Aniiot !  etc.  Not  an  allusion  to  a 
song  or  its  refrain  as  supposed  by  Fliigel,  followed  by  Williams 
and  Robin,  who  refer  to  the  mention  of  a  song  with  this  begin- 
ning or  refrain  in  a  poem  A  Poore  Helpe  (Hazlitt,  Early  Popular 
Poetry,  3.  260).  Manly's  view  seems  preferable  that  the  etc. 
indicates  that  the  line  is  to  be  filled  out  with  a  repetition  except 
for  substitution  of  the  names  of  the  two  others  —  not,  however, 
as  he  gives  it  "  Pipe,  Tibet  ;  pipe,  Margerie,"  but  in  full  "  Pipe, 
merry  Tibet !  pipe,  merry  Margerie."  This  and  similar  lines  be- 
low seem  to  indicate  that  the  song  was  sung  as  a  catch  or  round. 

i.  3.  71.  "  I  care  not  if  I  let  all  alone."  This  use  persisted  into 
the  seventeenth  century. 

i.  3.  116.  Tibet  does  not  finish  her  proverb,  which  is  well 
known  to  her  hearers. 

i.  4.  12.  "  With  his  doting  '  dear  one,  dainty  one,  take  pity  on 
me.' "  Nobs  and  nicebecetur  are  sixteenth-century  slang. 
Both  are  obscure  in  origin.  Udall  used  the  latter  in  his  transla- 
tion of  the  Apophthegms  of  Erasmus,  120  f.  (cited  by  N.  E.  D.~), 
"  In  suche  did  .  .  .  the  other  nycibecetours  or  denty  dames  cus- 
tomably  use  ...  to  bee  carry ed  about." 


160  NOTES  [AcTus  I 

i.  4.  13.  Fliigel  regards  this  episode  as  the  reverse  of  Plautus, 
Miles  Gloriosus,  v.  1000  ff .,  where  there  is  great  difficulty  iu 
keeping  the  braggart  captain  from  falling  in  love  with  a  servant. 

i.  4.  15.  "  I  perceive  now  ye  have  chosen  (made  your  choice) 
out  of  (from)  devotion." 

i.  4.  19.  "  I  will  not  take  charge  of  such  a  fair  piece's  keep- 
ing." 

i.  4.  32.  "  Is  not  ?  Why  then  be  it  unsaid  again  ! "  See  no  in 
the  Glossary. 

i.  4.  45.  The  stage-directions  which  Manly  inserts  probably 
represent  the  incidental  action  correctly.  Ralph's  men  crowd  in 
to  hear,  and  Merygreeke  pushes  them  against  him  under  pretence 
of  getting  them  away,  while  Ralph  pushes  them  back,  producing 
an  admirable  confusion. 

i.  4.  64-82.  Merygreeke's  description  of  the  fictitious  exploits 
of  Roister  Doister  is  modelled  upon  similar  passages  in  the 
Latin  comedies  in  which  the  parasite  exalts  the  bravery  of  the 
braggart  captain.  Udall,  as  usual,  gives  an  original  form  to  what 
he  borrows.  Whether  the  exploits  he  particularizes  are  original 
inventions  or  borrowings  from  folk  tales,  it  is  difficult  to  say. 
Williams  and  Robin  in  their  edition  refer  the  killing  of  the  blue 
spider  in  Blanchepowder  land  to  Tom  Thumb  —  on  what  au- 
thority is  not  specified  ;  the  term  blanchepowder,  applied  to 
a  mixture  of  spices  used  as  a  condiment  or  dessert  dressing,  makes 
plain  the  burlesque  nature  of  the  reference.  The  phrase  "  king 
of  crickets  "  occurs  elsewhere,  but  both  it  and  the  reference  to 
Mumfision  and  the  gosling  in  11.  77,  78,  are  not  yet  explained. 
The  conquest  of  the  elephant  is  borrowed  from  the  Miles  Glori- 
osus, i.  1.  26  :  — 

Pyrgopolinices.  Where  are  you  ? 

Arlolrogus.  Lo  !  here  am  I.  I'  troth  in  what  a  fashion  it  was  you  broke  the  fore- 
leg of  even  au  elephant,  in  India,  with  your  fist. 

Pyrgop.  How  ?  —  the  fore-leg. 

Arlo.  I  mean  to  say  this  —  the  thigh. 

Pynjop,  I  struck  the  blow  without  an  effort. 

Arlo.  Troth,  if,  indeed,  you  had  put  forth  your  strength,  your  arm  would  have 
passed  right  through  the  hide,  the  entrails,  and  the  frontispiece  of  the  elephant. 

The  passage  in  general  imitates,  but  with  entire  change  of 
allusions,  except  for  the  elephant,  the  Miles  Gloriosus,  i.  1. 13-31, 
42-54. 

i.  4.  65.  Probably  the  earliest  extant  use  of  dialect  for  humor- 
ous effect. 


SC.ENA  IV]  NOTES  161 

i.  4.  93.  The  same  phrase  as  our  "  bee  iu  one's  bonnet"  ;  that 
is  a  fixed  idea,  craze. 

i.  4.  95-102.  As  the  men  kneel  before  him  and  Roister  Doister 
is  preoccupied  with  his  grievance  against  them,  Merygreeke, 
under  pretence  of  zealous  concern,  brushes  off  the  imaginary 
"  fowl's  feather,"  gnat,  and  hair,  with  decidedly  unnecessary 
violence. 

i.  4.  96  :  fowl's.  A  pun  on  fool  is  intended,  the  two  words 
being  then  pronounced  alike  :  cf.  1.  98.  The  same  pun  may  per- 
haps be  suggested  in  1. 900.  Possibly  also,  as  suggested  by  W.  H. 
Williams,  iu  1.  102,  Merygreeke  pretends  to  say  "  loose  "  to 
Ralph,  but  changes  it  to  "  lousy  "  for  the  audience. 

i.  4.  103  :  famuli,  emended  from  famulas. 

i.  4.  112.  The  song  here  is  presumably  the  "second  song" 
appended  to  the  play  at  the  end. 

i.  4.  127.  Manly  notes  that  the  line  might  read,  "  But  are  you 
sure  that  your  letter  will  win  her,"  to  provide  a  rime  for  dinner. 

ii.  1.  28  :  Jack  Raker.  A  current  name  (perhaps  derived  by 
Udall  from  Skeltou)  for  a  bad  rimester. 

ii.  1.  30.  Referring  to  the  contest  of  Marsyas  with  Apollo. 

ii.  2.  22.  References  to  Lombard  bankers,  money-changers, 
and  pawn-brokers,  their  similarity  to  Jews  in  their  business  deal- 
ings, and  their  habit  of  keeping  to  themselves,  are  frequent.  A 
massacre  of  Lombard  merchants  was  an  incident  of  Jack  Straw's 
rebellion.  The  "touch"  or  trait  of  the  Lombards  here  referred 
to  is  persistency  in  getting  the  thing  desired  in  any  way  right  or 
wrong. 

ii.  3.  8.  The  proverbial  saying  "  in  dock,  out  nettle,"  which 
originated  in  a  charm  to  cure  nettle-stings  by  dock-leaves,  came 
to  refer  to  changeableness  and  inconstancy  (see  the  N.  E.  Z).). 

ii.  3.  47.  As  noted  by  Williams  and  Robin,  dogs  were  fre- 
quently taught  to  dance. 

ii.  3.  51.  The  Third  Shepherd  in  the  Second  Shepherds'  Play 
similarly  refers  to  his  decent  parentage  iu  claiming  considera- 
tion, 11.  260  f. 

ii.  3.  77.  "  No  good  turns,  meant  well,  take  in  ill  fashion." 

ii.  3.  85—87.  A  conventional  refrain  (used  also  in  Thersites). 
The  A7.  E.  D.  explains  berry  as  meaning  a  hillock  or  barrow  ;  cf. 
William  Browne,  Brit.  Past.  I,  ii.  (1772),  "  Piping  on  thine  oaten 
reede,  upon  this  little  berry  (some  ycleep  A  hillocke)." 

ii.  4.  14  :  No  ?  emended  from  No  did,  to  correct  the  rime. 


162  NOTES  [AcTus  III 

iii.  2.  53.  "I  speed  quite  as  much  as  though  I  did  so — this 
time  it  shall  not  be  necessary." 

iii.  2.  90.  A  proverbial  phrase  included  by  Heywood  in  his 
Proverbs.  The  graphic  image  imagines  a  mischief-maker  like  the 
devil  getting  into  a  clock  and  playing  the  mischief  with  its  deli- 
cate mechanism. 

iii.  3.  8.  Merygreeke  pretends  not  to  see  him  and  runs  into  him 
violently. 

iii.  3.  49.  Merygreeke  addresses  Roister  Doister  as  if  he  were 
a  criminal  about  to  die,  and  offers  him  the  customary  drink  be- 
fore execution  (1.  51). 

iii.  3.  52.  "  How  feel  ye  your  soul  to  God  ?  "  —  that  is,  "  What 
are  you  conscious  of  as  to  your  soul  in  its  relation  to  God  ?  " 
Compare  the  phrase  "  How  feel  you  yourself  ? "  cited  by 
Williams  and  Robin  from  Lyly's  Endimion  (ed.  Fairholt,  71). 
The  question,  according  to  Fliigel,  is  modelled  upon  the  inquiry 
to  the  sick  person  in  the  office  for  the  Visitation  of  the  Sick. 

iii.  3.  53 ff.  :  ut  infra,  "as  below,"  refers  to  the  Psalmody 
printed,  together  with  the  incidental  songs  of  the  play,  at  its 
close.  The  Psalmody  is  sometimes  spoken  of  as  if  merely  a  vari- 
ant or  alternative  version  of  the  mock  burial-service  in  the  dia- 
logue. This  it  is  not ;  it  is  intended  to  indicate  the  portions  to 
be  chanted  or  intoned,  and  for  that  reason  the  direction  ut  infra 
is  twice  inserted —  here  and  at  1.  80  when  Merygreeke  calls  forth 
the  parish  clerk  who  with  the  servants  of  Roister  Doister  sing 
the  round  of  the  Peal  of  Bells  following  the  Ps&lmody. 

In  one  passage,  that  beginning  Placebo  dilexi,  the  full  text  is 
given  in  the  Psalmody,  and  the  two  lines  in  text  of  the  play  are 
a  cue.  The  passage  beginning  Dirige  is  out  of  its  proper  order 
in  the  Psalmody.  Verbal  variations  from  the  main  text  in  this 
passage  and  in  11.  4—9,  13-20,  are  simply  due  to  failure  to  insert 
corrections  made  in  one  into  the  other.  Clear  proof  that  the 
Psalmody  indicates  what  is  to  be  sung  or  intoned  is  afforded  by 
the  addition  at  its  close  of  the  single  words  and  phrases  from 
the  requiem  office  scattered  through  the  dialogue.  Merygreeke 
chants  these,  breaking  off  to  address  Roister  Doister.  The  por- 
tions in  English  were  presumably  intoned  nasally  in  parody  of 
the  longer  portions  of  the  burial-service,  whereas  the  Latin 
words  were  in  plain  song.  The  humorous  effect  of  the  inter- 
mingled chant  and  dialogue  must  have  been  very  great. 

Fliigel  notes  in  his  appendix  on  this  scene  that  this  is  one  of 


III]  NOTES  163 

the  latest  instances  of  parodies  of  church  services.  These  were 
very  common  in  the  Middle  Ages  ;  see  Chambers,  The  Mediaeval 
Stage.  A  number  of  mock  requiems  are  extant  in  English. 
Fliigel  suggests  that  UdalFs  amusing  scene  may  have  been  sug- 
gested by  the  Placebo  Dilexi  in  Skelton's  Philip  Sparrow.  For 
the  passages  from  the  Ritual  used  by  Merygreeke  in  his  medley, 
Fliigel  may  be  consulted.  They  are  not  necessary  for  an  under- 
standing of  the  scene. 

iii.  3.  59.  The  candle  and  crucifix  used  in  extreme  unction,  and 
the  passing  bell. 

iii.  3.  64.  In  allusion  to  the  distribution  of  doles,  or  alms,  at 
funerals. 

iii.  3.  79  f.  These  lines,  from  some  song,  are  sung  as  the 
Psalmody  shows.  The  word  knap  is  in  imitation  of  a  sharp  blow 
and  here  represents  presumably  the  nailing  of  the  coffin.  After 
Merygreeke's  speech,  the  "  Peal  of  Bells,"  given  at  the  close  of 
the  play,  is  sung  as  a  round. 

iii.  3.  117  ff.  Merygreeke  talks  to  Roister  Doister  r.s  he  would 
to  a  horse.  Note  the  word  jet,  1.  121,  used  of  the  prancing  gait  of 
a  lively  horse,  and  the  carrying  out  of  the  image  in  11. 123,  124. 

iii.  3.  128  :  All,  wholly,  used  as  an  intensive  was  often  pre- 
fixed to  verbs  having  the  intensive  prefix  to  ;  hence  was  developed 
a  compound  intensive  ail-too  prefixed  to  verbs  which  did  not 
have  to,  especially  those  with  the  intensive  prefix  be.  The  sense 
of  the  line  seems  to  be  this  :  Merygreeke  ironically  answers  Ralph 
in  the  line  preceding,  and  then  says  aside,  "  May  the  Lord  some 
day  besmear  or  befoul  you  all  over  with  deferential  attention!  " 

iii.  3.  129.  Merygreeke  in  the  following  passage  takes  occa- 
sion again  to  treat  Ralph  roughly  under  pretence  of  preserving 
his  dignity. 

iii.  3.  133.  "To  have  an  M.  under  one's  girdle"  was  a  pro- 
verbial phrase  to  express  giving  another  the  proper  title  de- 
manded by  civility  or  the  respect  due  superior  rank.  Mery- 
greeke omitted  the  title  "  Master,"  and  Roister  Doister  reproves 
him.  Hence,  Merygreeke's  speech  which  follows. 

iii.  3.  135.  "  You  would  be  snapped  up  for  hawks'  meat."  So 
Williams  and  Robin  who  cite  Cambyses  (Hazlitt-Dodsley,  IV, 
232),  "  That  husband  for  hawks'  meat  of  them  is  up  snatched." 

iii.  3.  142  :  trey  ace,  three-one,  in  counting  at  dice,  etc. 
iii.  3.  150  :  Cantent.    Probably  the  "  Fourth  Song  "  at  the 
close  of  the  play. 


164  NOTES  [ACTUS  IV 

iii.  4.  36.  It  was  this  famous  letter  —  which  can  be  made  to 
read  two  ways  with  opposite  sense  (see  the  next  scene,  11. 49  ff .)  — 
that  led  to  the  discovery  of  Udall's  authorship  through  its  use  hy 
Wilson  as  an  example  of  ambiguity  (see  the  Introduction,  pp. 
31  ff.).  The  punctuation  here  used  is  designed  as  a  help  iu  reading 
it  aloud.  Fliigel  cites  parallels  of  poems  intended  to  be  read  two 
ways,  one  of  which  is  reprinted  in  his  Lesebuch,  p.  39,  and  the 
other  in  Ebert's  Jahrbuch,  14.  214. 

iii.  4.  72:  By  the  arms  of  Calais.  The  oath  here  used,  and 
used  also  in  act  iv.  7.  48,  may  possibly  have  been  derived  by 
Udall  from  Skelton  (Magnificence,  685,  Bowge  of  Court,  398).  It 
has  never  been  satisfactorily  explained.  Caleys  is  almost  cer- 
tainly Calais  in  France,  but  the  explanation  that  the  "arms" 
referred  to  were  the  arms  and  ordnance  kept  there  by  England 
and  lost  when  Calais  was  lost  in  1558  is  impossible  in  view  of 
Skelton's  use  of  the  oath.  The  explanation  suggested  in  Hales's 
article,  already  treated  in  the  Introduction,  is  also  impossible. 

iii.  4.  99.  Merygreeke's  articulation  is  affected  by  his  emotion. 
Lub,  however,  is  a  regular  variant  of  love. 

iii.  4. 119-124.  Cf.  Miles  Gloriosus,  4.  5.  1233-1238  ;  also  Ter- 
ence, Eunuchus,  iv.  7. 41-43.  And  compare  above  in  Udall,  11.  93  f. 

iii.  5. 7.  "  I  wish  you  had,  too,  but  it  was  not  necessary,  that  time. " 

iii.  5.  29.  The  Scrivener  shows  a  proper  spirit  and  strikes 
Ralph,  who  instantly  betrays  his  cowardice. 

iii.  5.  43.  Apparently,  as  Fliigel  notes,  Kalph  had  gotten  back 
his  letter  from  distance. 

iv.  2.  14.  Custance's  elaborate  oath  looks  very  strange  to 
modern  eyes.  To  understand  it,  one  must  first  recall  the  com- 
mon medieval  practice  of  particularizing  parts  of  the  body,  — 
head,  limbs,  teeth,  beard,  lips,  hips,  etc.  —  in  oaths  and  assev- 
erations. "  To  curse  (one's)  cheeks  "  is  reinforced  by  "  best  " 
(compare  v.  4.  28),  becoming  "to  curse  (one's)  best  cheeks," 
and  here  this  already  formidable  execration  is  still  further 
strengthened  by  adding  "  Christmas  "  to  "  best,"  as  if  "  their 
best,  even  their  Christmas,  cheeks." 

iv.  3.  12  f.  This  repetition  of  11.  6,  7,  can  hardly  be  intentional. 
Probably  a  printer's  error. 

iv.  3.  14-23.  Cf.  Miles  Gloriosus,  i.  1.  1-9  (Riley's  translation): 
"  Take  ye  care  that  the  lustre  of  my  shield  is  more  bright  than 
the  rays  of  the  sun  are  wont  to  be  at  the  time  when  the  sky  is 
clear;  that  when  occasion  conies,  the  battle  being  joined,  'mid 


SCJSNA  VII]  NOTES  165 

the  fierce  ranks  right  opposite  it  may  dazzle  the  eyesight  of  the 
enemy.  But  I  wish  to  console  this  sabre  of  mine  that  it  may  not 
lament  nor  be  down  cast  in  spirits,  because  I  have  thus  long 
been  wearing  it  keeping  holiday,  which  so  longs  right  dreadfully 
to  be  making  havoc  of  the  enemy." 

iv.  3.  40.  Custance  is  unluckily  equivocal  —  she  means  "  no- 
thing less  likely." 

iv.  3.  59.  Note  that  as  Custance  grows  more  angry  she  uses 
thee  and  thou  to  indicate  her  anger  and  contempt. 

iv.  3.  89.  Roister  Doister  begins  to  threaten. 

iv.  3. 100:  fire.  See  Glossary.  This  use  of  "  fire  "  is  periodically 
discovered  as  an  early  instance  of  the  American  slang  use.-  The 
line  is  defective  as  regards  rime. 

iv.  3.  117.  Ralph,  as  he  grows  angry,  turns  to  thee  and  thou. 

iv.  3.  121.  "And  thrash  thee  (with)  mine  own  hands." 

iv.  3.  123.  "  I  still  have  a  perfectly  clear  notion  whether  I 
shall  be  beaten."  The  phrase  seems  blind  to-day  because  of  the 
use  of  see,  in  the  sense  "  perceive,  see  as  a  mental  conclusion," 
which  is  still  in  use,  but  in  a  more  restricted  application  ("  to 
see  the  point,"  "  I  don't  see  it ").  Ralph  is  really  shaken  by 
Custance's  valorous  threats,  hence  the  word  still. 

iv.  3.  127.  A  fight  between  Custance  and  Ralph  evidently 
takes  place,  in  which  Ralph  is  worsted  and  retreats. 

iv.  6.  10  f .  The  speakers'  names  are  erroneously  reversed  in 
the  original  text  (Fliigel). 

iv.  6.39:  Cots-wold  lion.  A  humorous  term  for  a  sheep;  so 
also  "  Essex  lion,"  "  Lammermoor  lion."  See  above,  1.  29. 

iv.  7.  60:  collocavit  is  apparently  a  burlesque  term  for  some 
kitchen  utensil  (it  is  apparently  a  nonce-word;  see  N.  E.  /).), 
but  just  what  utensil  can  only  be  conjectured.  If  Williams  and 
Robin  are  right  in  assuming  a  verb  grease,  to  fatten,  and  the 
rest  of  the  line,  as  seems  likely,  means  "  [used]  the  best  hens  to 
fatten  "  (not  as  W.  and  R.  suggest  "  the  best  thing  to  fatten 
hens  "),  the  Collocavit  might  be  the  garbage-pail  (i.e.,  a  collock, 
or  large  pail,  the  word  being  punningly  identified  with  the  per- 
fect of  collocare,  as  a  collecting-place),  into  which  scraps  were 
thrown  to  be  given  to  the  hens  set  apart  as  best  for  fattening 
(cf.  the  phrase  "  hen  of  grease,"  a  fat  hen  :  see  N.  E.  D.,  s.  v. 
hen).  The  reference  to  hens  and  to  fattening  would,  as  Williams 
and  Robin  point  out,  be  peculiarly  applicable  to  Roister  Doister, 
owing  to  the  proverbial  application  of  the  word  hen  to  a  coward, 


166  NOTES  [ACTUS  V 

and  as  suggesting  Roister  Bolster's  love  of  eating  referred  to 
just  above.  The  suggestion  that  the  latter  half  of  the  line  might 
mean  "  the  best  hence  to  Greece,"  a  phrase  found  in  variant  form 
elsewhere,  is  not  impossible,  but  the  interpretation  just  given 
seems  preferable. 

iv.  7.  86:  her  misdemeanour.  The  use  of  libelous  language. 

iv.  7.  102.  In  the  original  text  this  line  is  assigned  to  Ralph, 
and  the  next  speech  to  Trustie  (Fliigel). 

iv.  8.  1  ff.  This  sceiie  was  formerly  said  to  be  a  close  imitation 
of  the  Miles  Gloriosus,  v.  1.  Maulsby  shows  that  the  two  scenes 
are  essentially  different,  and  that  much  closer  parallels  are  af- 
forded by  Rudens,  3.  5.,  when  two  women  defend  themselves 
with  cudgels  from  being  carried  away,  and  the  Eunuchus  of 
Terence,  where  the  boastful  captain  of  the  play,  Thraso,  attempts 
to  carry  off  Pamphila.  In  fact,  Udall  is  not  imitating  any  special 
scene,  but  working  freely  on  a  complex  suggestion. 

iv.  8.  14:  thou.  Emended  from  you,  a  misprint  or  with  y 
for  th. 

iv.  8.  40.  Cf.  iii.  4.  127.  The  oath  may  be  variously  completed. 

iv.  8.  45:  our  ladies'  knight,  a  title  of  St.  George,  probably 
in  reference  to  his  being  the  patron  saint  of  Chivalry. 

iv.  8.  53:  be  thy  priest,  that  is,  "  slay  you  as  a  sacrifice,  be 
thy  death." 

v.  1.  10.  Cf.  Miles  Gloriosus,  957. 

v.  5.  1  ff.  Compare  Terence,  Eunuchus,  last  scene. 

v.  6.  44.  Fliigel  is  doubtless  right  in  believing  that  the  song 
is  not  given,  and  that  the  remainder  of  the  play  is  the  conven- 
tional prayer  said  kneeling  for  the  sovereign's  majesty  and  the 
estates  of  the  realm,  found  in  numerous  other  plays.  It  cannot 
be  certain,  though  it  is  highly  probable,  that  the  Queen  referred 
to  is  Elizabeth  and  that  the  prayer  was  added  during  her  reign, 
perhaps  by  the  printer.  Fliigel  regards  this  as  certain  because 
of  1.  52,  but  this  line  without  much  straining  might  apply  to 
Mary  as  "  Defender  of  the  Faith,"  or  Udall  might  even  have  had 
in  mind  Mary's  collaboration  on  the  translation  of  the  Comment- 
ary. But  it  is  much  more  probable  that  Elizabeth  is  intended. 

The  Second  Song.  This  belongs  presumably  at  i.  4. 112. 

The  Fourth  Song.  This  belongs  presumably  at  iii.  3.  150. 

The  Psalmody.  See  iii.  3.  53,  note. 

The  Peal  of  Bells.  This  belongs  at  iii.  3.  84. 


GLOSSARY 


a,  on,  Fourth  Song,  1. 

a-good,  in  good  fashion,  thoroughly,  iii.  4.  149. 

abye,  suffer  (for  it),  ii.  4.  21. 

a-crook,  awry,  iv.  3.  81. 

advoutress,  adulteress,  v.  3.  &. 

again,  furthermore,  iii.  2.  48. 

Alie,  Holy  (with  pun  on  ale?),  i.  2.  124. 

allow,  approve,  v.  1.  12. 

ail-too,  altogether,  entirely;  see  Note,  iii.  3.  128. 

altogether,  for,  for  finally,  for  good,  iv.  6.  3. 

and,  if,  passim. 

apply,  take  into  consideration,  iv.  6.  47. 

appose,  pose,  make  it  difficult  for  (a  person)  to  find  a  reply, 

i.  1.  14. 

argent,  silver,  i.  4.  48. 
arms,  by  His,  i.e., by  God's  arms,  that  is,  by  God's  might:  one 

of  many  oaths  of  similar  type,  i.  2.  51. 
assays,  at  all,  at  every  test,  hence  at  every  time;  here,  with 

ellipsis,  ready  for  anything,  ii.  3.  55. 
avow,  solemn  promise,  avowal,  i.  2.  98. 

B 

backare  (Qy.  "  back  there"  or  backer,  quasi-comp.  of  back; 
see  N.  E.  D.),  back!  stand  back. 

bare,  scanty,  poorly  provided,  i.  4.  50. 

baware,  almost  certainly  a  misprint  for  beware,  iii.  3.  21. 

begrime,  see  Note,  iii.  3.  126. 

berry,  see  Note,  ii.  3.  87. 

beshrew,  invoke  curses  on,  i.  3.  4. 

bet,  beat  (preterit),  i.  4.  73. 

bie,  pay  for,  expiate,  iv.  7.  27. 

biliment  (abbreviated  form  of  habiliment),  a  jewelled  front 
worn  on  ladies'  head-dresses  in  the  16th  century  (so  worn 
with  the  French  hoods  referred  to  in  1.  41),  ii.  3.  43. 

bold,  sure,  i.  4.  80. 

bord,  jest,  i.  4.  8. 


168  GLOSSARY 

borrow,  pledge;  used  in  asseverations  as  here,  "  St.  George 

be  my  pledge,"  iv.  7.  74. 
bow,  yield,  iii.  3.  98. 

brag,  arrogant  and  ostentatious  demeanor,  iii.  3.  113. 
brim,  fierce,  iv.  6.  5. 
burbolt,  bird-bolt,  a  blunt-headed  bolt  or  arrow  for  shooting 

small  birds,  iii.  2.  88. 
busk,  bush,  clump,  i.  4.  67. 
but,  unless,  ii.  2.  19;  however,  i.  3.  11. 
but  and,  but  if,  except,  i.  3.  119. 
by  and  by,  forthwith,  at  once,  i.  3.  48. 


Caleys,  see  Note,  iii.  4.  72. 

can,  knows,  i.  3.  85. 

carriage,  burden,  iii.  2.  36. 

cassock,  a  long  loose  outer-coat,  ii.  3.  42. 

cast,  think,  i.  2.  167;  planned,  iii.  3.  86. 

cast,  show  a,  show  an  example,  "  give  a  taste,"  of  (your  qual- 
ity), i.  2.  181. 

chad,  Southern  abbreviation  of  ich  had,  I  had,  i.  3.  99. 

change,  of,  for  change,  provided  to  use  in  alternation,  ii.  3.  44. 

charm,  fig.  a  spell  (against  doing  the  like  again),  ii.  2.  4. 

charm,  put  under  a  spell;  fig.  overpower,  subdue,  iv.  3.  117. 

chieve,  succeed;  ill  chieve  it,  ill  may  it  fare  (with  her),  bad  luck 
to  her,  i.  3.  98. 

choploge,  chop-logic,  one  who  splits  hairs  or  quibbles;  hence, 
a  great  talker,  iii.  2.  82. 

chwas,  Southern  abbreviation  of  ich  was,  I  was,  i.  3.  100. 

chwine,  Southern  abbreviation  of  ich  ween,  I  ween,  i.  3.  100. 

clink,  ringing  sound  (here  of  the  bell  rung  before  the  funeral 
train),  iii.  3.  59. 

clout,  rag:  used  contemptuously. 

clout,  rag,  ii.  1.  43. 

Cock,  minced  form  of  the  name  of  the  Deity  used  in  oaths, 
i.  2.  160. 

coil,  thrash,  iv.  3.  121. 

collocavit,  see  Note,  iv.  7.  60. 

command,  commend,  i.  3.  126. 

commonty,  commonalty,  v.  6.  58. 

contented,  willing,  satisfied,  iii.  2.  45. 

cote,  colt,  iii.  3.  117. 

cough  me  a  mome,  make  a  fool  of,  prove  (one)  a  fool,  iii. 
2.86. 


GLOSSARY  169 

cousin,  kinsman;  also  used  in  addressing  or  referring  to  one 

not  a  kinsman,  like  our  "  friend,"  iii.  1. 4. 
craking,  boasting,  i.  1.  35. 
cust,  kissed,  i.  3.  98. 
custreling,  diminutive  of  custrel,  groom,  knave,  i.  4.  77. 

D 

defaut,  fault,  iii.  5.  84. 

despite,  contempt,  scorn,  iii.  4.  75. 

device,  in  my,  in  my  hands  to  devise  what  I  will,  in  my  con- 
trol, iii.  3.  1. 

doing,  to,  for  doing,  to  do,  iii.  1.  1. 

doing,  action,  i.  5.  3. 

dole,  alms  (here,  as  given  at  funerals),  iii.  3.  64. 

dotage,  doting;  uncontrolled  or  foolish  love,  iii.  2.  38. 

dreadfully,  as  one  full  of  dread,  iv.  6.  47. 

drink,  fig.  drink  of  sorrow,  suffer  pain  or  punishment  (cf. 
"  taste  of  sorrow  "),  i.  3.  27. 

dump,  a  sad  or  plaintive  song,  ii.  1.  21. 

E 

entwite,  reproach,  comment  angrily  on,  ii.  3.  77. 


facing,  playing  the  braggart  and  bully,  i.  1.  35. 

fact,  notable  deed,  exploit,  i.  2.  144. 

fain,  gladly,  eagerly,  iv.  3.  93. 

ferdegew,  farthingale  or  hooped  petticoat  to  extend  the  skirt, 

ii.  3.  43. 

fet,  fetch,  iii.  3.  92. 
fickle,  treacherous,  unreliable,  iii.  5.  4. 
fire,  to  drive  (out)  by  use  of  fire;  fig.  to  eject  by  violence,  iv. 

3.  10. 

fire-fork,  a  fork  used  for  tending  the  fire,  iv.  4.  21. 
fit,  strain  of  music,  "  bar  or  two,"  ii.  3.  54. 
fling,  go  with  haste  or  violence;  here,  go  about  with  heedless 

haste,  ii.  3.  27. 
flock,  flout,  mock,  iii.  3.  33. 
foil,  defile,  v.  6.  28. 

fond,  foolish,  i.  1.  51;  foolishly  affectionate,  doting,  i.  4.  12. 
force,  no,  no  matter,  iv.  3.  96. 
for  why,  because,  v.  6.  8. 


170  GLOSSARY 

found,  met  with,  iv.  3.  3. 

frame,  make  progress,  get  on,  i.  2.  186. 

fur,  furrow,  i.  3.  12. 

G 

gauding,  merrymaking,  iii.  4.  1. 

gear,  matter,  concern,  i.  3.  21. 

gill,   wench,  iii.  4.  105. 

gittern,  an  instrument  like  a  guitar,  ii.  1.  25. 

gloming,  gloomy  looks,  i.  1.  66. 

Gogs  arms,  a  minced  form  of  the  oath  "  God's  arms,"  i.  4.  28. 

Goss,  minced  name  of  the  Deity  used  in  oaths,  iii.  4.  91. 

graff,  graft,  i.  1.  34. 

gramercies,  pi.  of  gramercy,  thanks,  i.  2.  27. 

grant,  agree,  iv.  6.  47. 

gristle,  a  young  girl  in  contrast  with  a  matron,  i.  4.  24. 

grutch,  complain,  iv.  5.  20. 

H 

hand,  for  my,  for  my  own  part,  for  myself,  iii.  2.  71. 

hard,  very:  used  intensively  in  a  sense  akin  to  the  adverb  in 
"  hard  at  it"  ;  so  similarly  "  hard  heels,"  i.  1.  40. 

hardily,  boldly,  openly,  iv.  3.  41;  assuredly,  iii.  4.  149 

hardly,  surely,  forsooth,  i,  2.  175. 

harquebouse,  arquebus,  iv.  7.  110. 

ha'ze,  have  us,  iii.  4.  7. 

heal,  health,  iii.  3.  84. 

heat,  fig.  angry  passion;  in  that  heat,  in  such  a  rage,  i.  2.  50. 

hereaway,  hereabouts,  i.  3.  88. 

hoball,  stupid  fool,  iii.  3.  18. 

homely,  rough,  rude,  unbefitting,  v.  2.  24. 

honesty,  honor,  respect,  iv.  3.  63. 

hood,  French,  a  hood  worn  in  the  16th  and  17th  centuries 
"  having  the  front  band  depressed  over  the  forehead  and 
raised  in  folds  or  loops  over  the  temples  "  ( N.  E.  D.),  ii.  3.41. 

hoop,  whoop,  ii.  1.  24. 

horologe,  clock,  iii.  2.  90. 

howlet,  owlet,  ii.  1.  24. 

husband,  manager,  i.  3.  91. 

I 

ichotte,  Southern  abbreviation  of  ich  wot,  I  know,  i.  3.  99. 
imagination,  mental  conception  on  judgment  from  the  facts, 
inference,  iii.  2.  74. 


GLOSSARY  171 


in,  on,  i.  3.  57. 

insurance,  betrothal,  iv.  6.  14. 


jet,  strut,  prance,  iii.  3.  121. 

joyly,  of  happy  disposition,  gay  and  gallant,  i.  5,  10. 
just,  decided,  settled  (of  a  fact  asserted  as  true),  iii.  4.  60. 
jut,  jolt,  shock,  iii.  3.  8. 

K 

ka  (abbreviation  of  quotha,  "quoth  he"),  indeed:  used  in 

sarcasm  or  contempt,  i.  2.  111. 

kite,  the  name  of  the  bird  used  as  a  term  of  reproach,  v.  5.  9. 
knacking,  "  thumping,"  downright,  iii.  2.  58, 
knot,  group  of  persons,  ii.  3.  53. 
know,  become  acquainted,  ii.  3.  35. 
ko,  quoth,  iii.  3.  21. 

L 

lade,  burden,  oppress,  iii.  2.  36. 

land,  estate,  iii.  4.  115. 

last  day,  yesterday,  i.  3.  129. 

law,  an  interjection  expressing  surprise  or  amazement,  i.  4.  65. 

lese,  lose,  i.  1.  53. 

lewd,  ignorant,  low,  base,  iv.  3.  1. 

light,  by  this,  a  common  oath,  iii.  4.  76. 

lilburn,  lubber,  iii.  3.  18. 

lily,  fair  as  a  lily,  iv.  7.  34. 

lobcock,  oaf,  lout,  iii.  3.  18. 

losel,  profligate,  scoundrel,  iv.  3.  90. 

lout,   flout,  jeer  at,  iii.  3.  25. 

lout,  fraud,  i.  1.  34. 

lover,  would-be  gallant  (with  evil  implication),  iii.  3.  27. 

low,  allow,  iii.  3.  143. 

lub,  variant  of  love,  i.  2.  146. 

lust,  list,  please,  i.  1.  55. 

M 

M.,  for  "  Master,"  iii.  3.  133. 

maistry,  for  the,  as  if  for  the  mastery,  to  your  utmost  best, 
i.  3.  68. 

make,  prepare  as  food,  cook,  i.  4.  82. 

Malkin,  a  diminutive  of  Malde  (whence  Maude),  nickname  of 
Matilda;  here  used  as  an  oath  or  asseveration,  perhaps  be- 
cause associated  with  Mary,  as  if  Molkin,  i.  2.  114. 


172  GLOSSARY 

mankine,  of  savage  temper;  uncontrollably  fierce  or  mad, 

iv.  8.  41. 

marybones,  marrowbones,  i.  4.  90. 
maship,  abbreviation  of  mastership  corresponding  to  mas  for 

master,  i.  2.  100. 

Matte,  minced  form  of  Mass  used  in  oaths,  iv.  7.  114. 
meddle  you,  busy  yourself,  i.  3.  10. 
meetly,  properly,  or,  perhaps,  fairly,  tolerably,  iii.  4.  21. 
mind,  but  for  your,  except  for  your  wish  or  judgment,  unless 

it  is  your  wish  or  decision,  v.  5. 16. 
minion,  darling;  also,  as  adj.,  dainty,  Second  Song,  1. 
minion,  paramour  (like  "  lover  "  above),  iii.  3.  30. 
mo,  more,  iii.  2.  7. 

mock,  speech  or  action  expressing  scorn  or  derision,  ii.  1.  42. 
mock,  make,  i.  4.  18. 

mome,  blockhead,  fool  (see  cough],  iii.  2.  86. 
more  and  less,  high  and  low,  Prol.  11. 
moss,  humorous  for  "  turf  "  or  "earth,"  ii.  3.  45. 
mote,  may,  iii.  2.  78. 

Mounsire,  Anglicized  form  of  Monsieur,  iv.  8.  26. 
mystery,  hidden  meaning,  Prol.  18. 

N 

ne,  nor,  i.  4.  30. 
near,  nearer,  i.  2.  88. 
nicebecetur    (a  humorous   quasi-Latinized  form  of   nicebice 

(cf.  Locrine,  3.  3  as  pointed  out  by  W.  H.  Williams)  of  same 

sense),  "  dainty  dame,"  fine  lady,  i.  4.  12. 
no  (Southern  form  of  O.  E.  na,  not),  not:  in  "  No  is!  "  "  No 

did! "  (so  similarly  "  No  will!  "  etc.)  expressing  surprise 

at  a  statement  made,  where  the  modern  idiom  is  "  Is  not!", 

"  Did  not!  ",  etc.,  i.  4.  31. 
nobs,  dear,  darling,  i.  4.  12. 

nones,  for  the,  for  one,  or  for  a,  particular  occasion,  i.  3.  1.5. 
nouns,  a  minced  or  humorous  variation  of  "  wounds  "  used  in 

oaths,  i.  4.  23. 
nown,  own,  i.  1.  49. 

P 

parage,  lineage,  i.  2.  37. 

pashe,  assumed  to  be  an  abbreviation  of  passion;  used  in  oaths, 

iv.  3.  124. 

pastance,  pastime,  ii.  1.  42. 
pattens,  thick-soled  shoes  worn  to  increase  the  height;  run 

on  pattens,  make  a  great  clatter,  i.  3.  24. 


GLOSSARY  173 

pick,  "  take  "  ("  take  yourself  off  "),  iv.  3.  90, 

pigsney  (by  derivation  pigges  neye,  pig's  eye,  used  with  refer- 
ence to  its  small  size,  like  pinke-nye,  tiny  eye,  as  a  term  of 
endearment:  see  N.  E.  D.),  darling,  pet,  i.  4.  42. 

place,  in,  on  the  spot,  at  hand,  i.  4.  72. 

plain,  surely,  iii.  3.  90. 

plight,  plighted,  iii.  1.  10. 

portly,  stately,  iii.  3.  113. 

potgun,  properly  a  gun  with  a  large  bore,  a  mortar,  also  a  pop- 
gun; also  applied  humorously,  as  here,  with  reference  to 
any  gun,  iv.  7.  62. 

powder,  preserve  (meat)  by  sprinkling  it  with  salt  or  spices; 
cure;  here,  "  salt  medium,"  ii.  4.  22. 

pranky,  full  of  pranks,  frisky,  iii.  3.  117. 

prick-me-dainty,  one  who  gives  much  attention  to  dress,  one 
who  dresses  elaborately,  ii.  3.  48. 

Q 

quite,  quits,  ii.  3.  79. 

R 

rag,  fig.  bit,  scrap,  with  contemptuous  implication,  iv.  3.  81. 
rate,  manner  (so  similarly  "  at  one  rate,"  "  in  like  manner  "), 

iii.  2.  34. 

ray,  array,  iv.  7.  1. 

recorder,  an  instrument  resembling  a  flute  or  flageolet,  ii.  1.  23. 
renne,  run,  i.  3.  24. 
reprief,  reproof,  v.  4.  20. 
resort,  go  or  come  (to  a  place  or  person) :  here  absol.  for  "  come 

to  her,"  ii.  3.  37. 

Rig,  a  name  frequently  given  dogs,  ii.  3.  47. 
roil,  gad  about,  ii.  3.  29. 
roisting,  playing  the  roisterer,  Prol.  25. 
roose,  extol,  flatter,  i.  1.  50. 
round,  whisper,  i.  4.  11. 
rout,  form  in  a  company,  gather,  iv.  7.  2. 


sadness,  seriousness,  iv.  3.  5. 

said  saw,  saying  that  has  verbal  currency,  proverb,  i.  1.  5. 

say,  essay,  try,  iii.  1.1. 

sectour,  executor,  iii.  3.  61. 

see,  guard,  protect,  ii.  2.  5. 


174  GLOSSARY 

seek  to,  "  make  up  to,"  i.  5.  3. 

sence,  since,  since  then,  already,  iii.  5.  5. 

shent,  injured,  disgraced,  i.  2.  46. 

shoke  up,  found  fault  with,  sharply  rebuked,  ii.  2.  1. 

shoot-anchor,  sheet-anchor,  the  largest  anchor  and  hence,  fig. 

main  or  final  reliance,  i.  1.  28. 
shrew,  curse,  i.  3.  48. 

skill,  get  along  (with),  succeed  or  manage  (with),  ii.  3.  7. 
skrine,  shrine,  chest,  box,  iv.  7.  64. 
slacked,  proved  remiss,  ii.  1.  14. 

sonnet,  here,  a  poem  to  a  lady  set  for  singing,  ii.  1.  21. 
sooth,  give  assent  to,  corroborate  with  flattering  intent,  i.  1.9. 
sore,  fearsome,  i.  4.  75. 
sound,  swoon,  iii.  3.  93. 
sprite,  spirit,  demon,  iv.  8.  25. 
stale,  matured,  seasoned,  i.  3.  2. 
start,  started,  i.  4.  64. 
stop,  obstacle,  hindrance,  i.  3.  64. 
stound,  time,  occasion,  iii.  5.  7. 
such  other,  others  like  them,  Prol.  21. 
swing,  used  of  restless  and  heedless  movement,  ii.  3.  28. 
swinge,  beat  soundly,  ii.  4.  27. 


take,  give  in  charge,  entrust,  i.  5.  1. 
target,  a  light  round  shield,  iv.  3. 14. 
tender,  cherish,  iv.  1.  18. 

think  long,  await,  or  look  for,  eagerly,  iv.  1.  20. 
took,  gave,  i.  5.  1. 
touch,  trait,  quality,  ii.  2.  22. 
trace,  track,  iii.  1.  1. 
trey-ace,  see  Note,  iii.  3.  142. 
trick,  neat,  trim,  ii.  3.  43. 
trust,  expect,  ii.  1.  6. 
try,  give  trial  of,  v.  1.  8. 

tut-a-whistle,  how  now,  what  do  you  mean,  nonsense;  so,  simi- 
larly, "  tut-a-fig's  end."  i.  4.  23. 
tway,  two,  iv.  22. 

U 

uneth,  hardly,  iii.  5.  4. 


very  now,  right  now,  at  once,  iv.  6.  40. 


GLOSSARY  175 

W 

wagpasty,  idle  scamp,  iii.  2.  10. 

wark,  work,  iii.  1.  6. 

warrantise,  guarantee,  iv.  7.  26. 

wast,  waste;  in  wast,  in  vain,  iv.  5.  22. 

week,  in  by  the,  launched  in  his  foolish  fancies  for  an  indefi- 
nite time,  i.  1.  24. 

whan,  a  little,  iii.  3.  117. 

whippet,  make  haste,  i.  3.  68. 

whirl,  a  disk  of  some  weight  attached  to  the  spindle  to  make  it 
spin  with  greater  force  and  steadiness,  i.  8.  10. 

white  son,  favored  dependent,  parasite  (cf .  white,  v.  to  wheedle, 
flatter,  and  white  boy  in  similar  use),  i.  1.  49. 

whur,  haste,  hurry,  i.  3.  11. 

wide,  wide  of  the  mark,  i.  4.  28. 

wise,  in  any,  in  any  case,  i.  2.  61. 

worm,  lover,  iii.  2.  48. 

write,  writ,  writing,  ii.  3.  74. 


yelde,  reward,  i.  3.  99. 
yield,  requite,  iii.  2.  51. 


zembletee,  dialectal  corruption  of  semblant,  semblaunty,  seem- 
ing; by  zembletee,  in  seeming,  so  it  would  seem  (cf.  O.F.  par 
semblant),  i.  4.  75. 


of  CaMc* 


Uttei 

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..  , 

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' 


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157    The  Song  of  Roland.    Translated  by  ISABEL  BUTLER.     Paper,  .30  ;  hnen,  40 

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213.  Hemingway's  Le  Morta  Arthur.    (In  Preparation.) 

EXTRA    .Vl'MBERS 

A   American  Authors  and  their  Birthdays.     Paper,  is 
B   Portraits  and  BiographicalSketches  of  20  American  Authors      far 
D  Seudder's  Literature  in  School.    Paper.  15. 
,£  Dialoerue  and  Scenes  from  Harriet  Beecher  Stowe     Pit 
F  Long-fellow  Leaflets.    Paper,.:*);  li.i 
(!   Whittier  Lenfletn  Unen.  net,  .40. 

H  Holmes  Leaflets      Pa/,er,  .SO  ;  linen,  .40. 
/     Thomas's  How  to  Teaob  English  Classics      Paper,  .15. 
J    Holbrook's  Nopthland  Heroes.     Linen,  £1. 
K  The  Riverside  Primer  and  Reader.    Lin*. 
L   The  Riverside  Song  Book.     /'•/  •</.«,  .40. 

if  Lowell's  Fable  for  Critics.     Paper,   15. 

y  Selections  from  the  Writings  of  Eleven  American  Authors     Pap" 
O   Lowell  Leaflets.     Pn/irr,  3d;  lintn,  4'>. 
P   Holbrook's  Hiawatha  Primer.     Linen,  .40. 

u   Selections  from  She  Writines  of  Eleven  English  Authors     Paptr,  15 
K    HawUiorne's  Twice- Told  Tales.    SelPcliV:.  l'<n.?,-,    20;{iwn,   ;«). 
S    Irving's  Essays  from  Sketch  Book.    Selected.     I'nper.  30  j  linen,  .40. 
/'   Literature  for  the  Study  of  Lansruaee.     /'«/»?/•,  .30  :  /in.-/!,  .40. 
I'   A  Dramatization  of  The  Song  of  Hiawatha.    Paper,  .15. 
I-'   Holbrook's  Book  of  Nature  Myths.     Linen,  .45. 
>f  Brown's  In  the  Days  of  Giants.    Linen,  M. 
X   Poems  for  the  Study  o'  Language.    Paper,  SO  i  linen,  .40.    Also  in  three  parts 

each.  i><n,f>;   15. 

Y   Warn  sr 'a  In  the  Wilderness.    Paper,  20  :  hnen,  .30. 
/f    Nine  Selected  Poems.     Paper.   15  ;  {men,  25. 
AA  Coleridge's  The  Ancient  Mariner  and  Lowell's  The  Vision  of  Sir  Launfal 

BB  Poe's^'he  Ravf.n.  Whittier's   Snow-Bound,  and  Longfellow's  The  Court 

ship  of  Miles  Standish.     Paptr,  15. 
CC  Selections  for  jtudy  and  Memorizing     For  Grades   I-III.     Papr 

linen,  .2.V 
DO  - 


